
fJass. 



5^(^o/ 



S 



PKK.SKNTHI) in- 



^ 




.,r3 "^ 



B 



^UT his book and read his story, 
Every word of zvhich is true. 

He fought bravely for Old Glory 
That its folds might shelter you. 

H. C. STAFFORD, 

Captain of Company C, 
j Eighiy-'l hird Pennsylvania Volunteers. 

Erie, Pa., Aug 2^, igoj. 




DA.VID >X^. SXA.F=F=ORD. 



IN DEFENSE OF" THE FLAG. 




A TRUE WAR STORY 

(ILLUSTRATED.) 



A Pen Picture of Scenes and Incidents during the 

Great Rebellion.— Thrilling Experiences During 

Escape from Southern Prisons, Etc. 



By DAVID W. STAFFORD. 



All Rights to this Storg Reserved bg David W. Stafford of Compang D, 
Eightg^Third Pennsglvania Volunteers 



i;tc-j. 

IHLING BROS. & EVERARD, Printers. 
Kalamazoo, Mich. 




HENRY LEDIERER. 



u; 



/nro'TrrTTTirnrTTTTTTTinnQ 
: fc a Cnic IVav Stori). :j 

L C By ^av'xb VO. Stafforb, o( 

"^ tjlJLO.JLO-JUUlJUUlJLaJlJLaJlJlJlAJ 




X -T OW IN the: commencement of this narrative 
[\ and tale of my early life, I must say that a 

good part of my life has been somewhat 
g-loomy. At the time of my entering- the 
service of my country I was seventeen years 
ofag-e. It was just after the first and second 
eng-ag-ements at Bull Run. 

My father was a poor man, the father of 
some nine chikh-en, and a shoemaker by 
trade. I had left home early in my youth, 
when about fourteen or fifteen years old, and at this time, 
just before the war, a boy's chances for labor and wages paid 
were very small. I worked for only seven dollars a month. 
This was the first labor I ever performed, working by the 
month. Oh, how my mind goes back to childhood days I 

Xow in tlie fall of iSr*-', on the 28th clay of August. I felt 
It my duty to respond to my country's call, and I enlisted 
in the S3rd Pennsylvania N'olunteers, to serve three years. 

After 1 had l)ccn s.)me two years in the service, my 
brother, two years younger than myseh-. enlisted and came 
to the army at Rappahannock Station, on the Rappahan- 
nock River. Xow 1 had written a good many letters home 
tn mv poor brother, advising him not to come to the army. 
but 11 was ..f no avail. He would and did come. l;ut 1 liave 



A TRUE WAR STORY 



reason to thank (lod that it was his own good wih, and that 
niv l)rother's Hfe l)lood was not shed in \ain for his conntrv, 
althoiioh 1 (Hd try my l)est to ha\e him stay at home. 

Soon after he came to tlie regiment and was placed in 
tlie same comi)any with me, I was detailed to go on picket 
duty. Very shortly thereafter I became injured while assist- 
ing- in the building of rifle pits at night and w-as sent from 
our headquarters to Washington. I had previous to this 
been through all of the engagements from the Antietam war, 
where we hrst found the regiment. I had participated in all 
of the eng'agements, such as the first and second Fredericks- 
burg battles and the Chancellorsxille battle, or "Stick in the 
Mud," and the Culpepper battle and Mine Run, and at this 
place it certainly did seem as though we run. for we re- 
treated clear beyond Manassas Junction, in the direction of 
Washington, and we could not stop long enough to steep 
our coffee without getting shelled from the rebel batteries. 
For six miles, on what was called the stone pike, we double 
marched, and it did seem as though the rebels were destined 
to lick us every time we met them. I had, up to the time 
of my l)rother"s coming into the army, participated in all of 
the engagements that our regiment had been called into. 

There is one thing that I recall to memory yery dis- 
tinctly. It is the incident of our camping on the battle field 
of Bull Run, on our retreat from ^line Run, near the Rapi- 
dan Ri\er. Xear this run the rebels had very strong foritfica- 
tions thrown up. Now on the battle field of Bull Run our 
dead had just been covered — a g'reat many b}- the enemy — 
on top of the ground, and so shallow that the l)ones of 
thousands of the dead, skulls and all others, lay on top of 
the ground. Oh, how sad it did seem to wake in the morn- 
ing to find the country strewn with human bones for miles 
around, and it is one thing that T can't forget very soon. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



I had sfone over the groimcl in the chrection of Bull Run, 
and very close to the run, studded with trees, sat the skeleton 
of one of our Indiana men against a large elm tree, just as 
he had died one year before. I called the attention of the 
officers to this spectacle. The skeleton was in a sitting 
posture, the flesh having entirely disappeared, and on the 
ground lay his 1)lue clothes. On the arms of the clothes 
were the emblems showing the sergeant's stripes and the 
number of his company and regiment. One of the officers 
just touched his sabre under the chin of this skeleton and it 
fell all to pieces. 1 thought this a wonderful sight. 

Now after my injury at Rappahannock Station, of which 
I have already spoken, and being sent to Washington. I 
staved in Lincoln hospital. Here T was treated some two 
months and was sent home on a seventeen days" furlough, 
when the Battle of the Wilderness came on. This was the 
first battle that my poor young brother had ever been in. 
As our troops were charging on the enemy's works for the 
third or fourth time, my brother fell, pierced through the 
right thigh, and another ball passed through the shoulder 
very close to the heart. After the battle he lay on the field 
ei^bt hours before he was finally taken to Alexandria, near 
Washington, and here he was ])laced in what was called the 
Haywood church. This church had been made over into a 
hospital in which lo place the wounded soldiers. 

T had not been home but a few days at this time. As 
soon as 1 found on the list of the wounded that my brother 
had been hurt. 1 went back to Washington and returned to 
Lincoln hos])ilal. from which place I had received my fur- 
lough. 1 was verv uneasy until T got a pass to go to Alex- 
andria, where mv jxtor br.UJKM- lay dying of his wound, 
received in the Battle of the Wilderness. On receiving the 
pa^s and arriving at .Alexandria 1 stayed two days. I found 



A TRUE WAR STORY, 



on leaving my poor brother that his stay in this world was 
very short. I went to headquarters and called for another 
pass and told them of the condition of my brother. They 
told me if I was able to travel back and forth to the city 
that they would send me to the front and ordered me to go 
back to the barracks until the next morning at ten o'clock, 
and, oh, with what a sad heart I spent the night, scarcely 
sleeping, and then to think of the suffering my poor wounded 
brother would have to endure ! It made my heart ache as I 
thought of his parting words. While at his bedside he told 
me of a good old lady nurse who had told him of his Lord 
and Saviour, how He had died to redeem him, and. oh, how 
happy he was in all of his suffering! He would point me to 
the kind old nurse, tell me how much she had told him about 
his Creator, and it was wonderful what faith he had in God. 
He would tell me how much the old nurse reminded him 
of our mother. He told me if he could only see our poor 
old mother he could die contented. Oh. what sad hours 
these were to me ! I would go out on the street to pass 
away the time. I felt so sad after I started to leave him and 
to think of his last words, when he would look up and say, 
"David, don't be gone as long as you were before." I think 
I saw him twice before he passed away. 

Now comes almost the saddest part of my life. The next 
morning dawned and at nine o'clock there were collected 
before the doctor's office twenty men to be looked over and 
sent to the front, myself being included. Some were pro- 
nounced al)le for duty and some were sent across the Poto- 
mac River, three miles from Alexandria, where my dear 
brother lay dying of his wounds. 

Just as soon as I got to this distributing camp I went 
straight to headquarters for a pass to go to Alexandria, three 
miles awav, and see my brother, as I thought, for the last 



A TRUE WAR STORY 



time. 1 could see the spires from where I was. Well, I 
went and laid the matter l)efore the commander at this place 
and told him of the condition of my brother and plead in 
tears for him to let me g-o to him. He told me that there 
were passes ahead of my request, and with all of my pleading 
I could not get a pass under two or three davs. \Xe\\, I 
went around in the enclosure of the distributing camp, which 
was surrounded with a fence ten or twelve feet high. At 
the south side there was a piece of a board ofif, about two feet 
in length, and through this I finally made my wav and 
started for the city, taking the chances of the guards shoot- 
ing me. They halted, then followed me some distance, but 
I got to the city, and with a good deal of trouble I finally 
got through the guard lines that surrounded the town and 
went to the church where my brother was, but, oh, what a 
surprise awaited me ! At the door or entrance I found the 
hospital steward and the old lady who had cared for and 
shown my poor brother the way to his Redeemer, and on en- 
tering to where the couch was I found to mv sorrow that he 
had died the day before and was laid in the cemetery to rest, 
and it is difficult to tell what a sad night I put in that night, 
lying on the same couch where m\- ])oor brother h:ul died, 
and thinking of what the next day would bring forth, and 
knowing that I had deserted from the camp. It indeed was 
a sad night to me. yet with my faith .and trust in Ciod I was 
in hoi)es that I would not be punished for deserting camp. 
(Jh, how this continued to haunt me through the night; 
And the loss of my ])oor brother! All this made me \cry 
sad, indeed. Well, when uK^rning dawned I went and gave 
myself up to the guards and returned to camp, and to tell 
you the truth, this seemed like a hoiieless tri]). I fnially ar 
rived at camp and went before the connnander. lie well 
remembered m\- ])leading a da\' or two before and w. anted to 



10 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



know if T understood what deserting- would do to me if 
brought to trial. I told him I did. "Well, young man," said 
he, "did vou find vour l)rother?" In this talk to me I broke 
down and told him plainly of finding his em])ty couch and 
of the sad night I had spent, and he told me to go to my 
quarters. "Young man, it is all right. I would have done, 
the same thing myself." This seemed to lift a great weight 
off me. I went to the barracks with a light heart then. 

I will soon commence relating the tale of my confine- 
ment in the rebel prison and the story of my escape. After 
the death of my brother 1 had no desire to stay longer near 
Washington or Alexandria, but I wanted to go to the front 
and get into the battles for mv country, and if need l)e die 
for it. I did indeed feel sad at heart at this time. Soon 
there came an order for the men who were able to bear arms 
to turn out, for ]:)art of Longstreet's corps had come to 
\A'ashington while (ien. Grant was at Richmond, to see if 
the rebels could not take Washington. While our armv 
was trying to take Richmond the enemv came up on the 
Baltimore Pike and got almost into Washington. Here we 
had a \ery se\ere battle, which ended in our driving out the 
rebels from the city of A\'ashington. 

X^ow soon after our trouble with the enemy, we were 
sent !)}• transjjort to Richmond. Here, in rifle pits and 
l)um])r<iofs and froiu forts, we had some Acrv severe cannon- 
ading. A\'e charged each other until we were called to go 
on a reconnoitering triji on the south side of Richmond 
and south of Petersburg, on \\hat was called the Weldon 
railroad. This road we tore u]) and continued to linld it 
against all the odds that could be brought to bear against us. 

Now there was one other thing that occurred prior to 
what I have just written that comes to mv mind. This in- 
cident occurred at Chancellors\ille. on the south side of 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 13 



Fredericksburg, just after the first and second Ijattles of 
Fredericksburg, while we lay in line, and more severe fight- 
ing never occurred at this place. For the time being the 
battle waged fierce and warm. Now what I mention this for 
is this : We had orders to get ready for a general inspection 
of arms and all charges in the guns were to be withdrawn. 
In front of us there was heavy timber, and perched in the 
trees were many sharpshooters, ready to shoot any of our 
men who raised their heads above the line of fortifications 
that we occupied. We had orders to draw all the loads from 
our guns and I had tried to obey but could not get the 
charge in mv rifle dislodged. I had to get a special instru- 
ment, called a wormer, placed on the end of my ramrod to 
take the ball from my gun. Well, 1 had got one of these 
wormers fast in my weapon and I spoke to my captain in re- 
gard to my firing the gun. He told me that Col. S. Strong 
Vincon, our colonel, had given orders for e\ery man to draw^ 
the charge from his gun and be ready for inspection, as they 
must fire their guns. I told him what shape my gun was in 
and told him in order to unload it I would have to pick some 
powder and fire it in the fortifications, and did so. The 
colonel came verv soon and looked at each gun close to 
where I was. Soon he took my gun and raised the hammer 
and blew in the nozzle. The smoke came out of the tube 
and he ordered me to climb on the fortifications there and 
remain for two hours or until he would have me come down. 
This was supposed to be one of the rashest things that any 
of our commanding officer^ had ever done. Well, I had 
nothing else to do but to obey the colonel and T had no 
sooner gotten fairly on the line of the works than the 
enemy's sharpshooters commenced firing at me. Here is 
one place in my life where I knew that I was being fired at. 
and if there was one shot fired T believe there were thirty. 



14 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



Captain Woodard of our Comi^any went right after the 
colonel and told him that he had command of Company D 
and he would either take that man from those works or 
either one or the other would die, and while they were con- 
tending over the matter I came down off the works. Well 
the next battle that occurred was at Gettysburg, in my own 
native state, and here the colonel was shot by sharpshooters 
and died in a few hours. Thus ends this thrilling experience. 
Now I will, by the help of the all-wise God, proceed to 
relate another sad picture of my life and the story of my cap- 
ture and confinement in southern hells, called stockade 
prisons. Now-, as I should have given the date of my enlist- 
ment, also of my capture, I will say that I entered the army 
on the 28th day of August, 1862, in Company D, Eighty- 
Third Regiment, commanded by S. Strong Vincon, of Erie 
countv, Pennsylvania, and our company commander was 
Captain O. S. Woodard, of \\'aterford, Erie county. Penn- 
sylvania. At the battle of the Weldon Railroad, wdiile on 
outside picket, I was taken prisoner, with many others, and 
carried to Macon state prison and was confined in this prison 
about two weeks. This was the first prison in which I was 
ever confined. This prison is just ten miles from Anderson- 
ville. Now for about two days before we got to this place, 
we had about one dav's rations of corn meal issued to us, 
with about four ounces of bacon, and this bacon was nearlv 
rotten. I felt that I must let my friends know where I was 
confined, for my poor mother, after the death of my brother, 
had mourned his loss so much that she nearly died. What I 
wished to do was to get a letter to my captain. I knew that 
this would soon be sent home and would let my folks know 
where I was. I observed in this prison a man who had 
formerly been a Union man and whom the rebels had drafted 
into the southern service. He wrote a very few lines for me. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 15 

ami while lie wrote he told nie that he had been pressed into 
the rel^el army, but just as soon as an opportunity ])rcsented 
itself he deserted and had been court-marshaled and was 
sentenced to be shot the next day at ten o'clock. Yet he 
wrote a very hne letter and told me that he had friends that 
he expected would help him out. We were at this time in 
the outside vard to the prison. Some sixteen feet of wall 
surrounded us, the top of which was covered with glass. 
Now when we all fell in line it seems there was a box close 
to a large flight of stairs that led up to the second floor. 
This man said to me that his cell mate, if I remember right, 
was to shove this box, wdiich had an open end, up to the wall 
as he passed close by after he had been placed in behind. 
The cell mate was to ans\ver to the call of both names ddiis 
was very successfully performed and the next morning when 
the prisoners were let into the yard the fact revealed itself, 
that the condemned man had disappeared. This man was 
a Xorthern man w ho had a good lot of property in Georgia, 
and had not left as soon as he should have done. I^ike many 
others, his property was confiscated, and I don't know 
whether he got away or not. ]\Iy ]:)rayers were that he did 
and I hoped and ])raved that (iod might lead me in all that T 
might do in order that I might continue to write and work 
for others. T now realize that this life is closing very rapidly. 
\\ hile we were conhncd in this prison our fare was al)out 
twehe ounces of corn bread for a dav's ration and about four 
ounces of bacon. We were kept here al)out three weeks and 
then sent to Anderson\ille ])rison. Xow when we arrived 
here we were soon \isited 1)\' ('a])taiii \\ ir/. the connnandcr 
of this prison. We were left in the iiot Georgia sun for some 
time before we were taken inside. This Ca])tain Wirz was a 
very cruel man. for he would take the life of a helpless 
prisoner upon the slightest pro\ocati< m. W c did some com- 



16 A TRUE WAR STORY, 



plaining" 1)ecause we were not taken inside the stockade, and 
soon W'irz found that we were dissatisfied about being- 
obHged to remain in the hot sun. At the time of our capture 
we had been stripped of ah our clothing, except shirt and 
drawers ; no shoes, not e\'en a cap to our heads. When we 
were taken prisoners we were captured by Colonel Masfies' 
guerrillas, and it was known that these men did not spare 
many prisoners' lives. Now, as I was saying, we were lying- 
in the hot southern sun, w^ondering wdiy they did not take 
us inside. Captain Wlrz came along and with much cursing- 
told us that we would get in there soon enough. We 
soon found out that in this he was telling the truth, if he 
never had before, for I say he was a very bad man. It was 
well known that he was the cause of thousands starving to 
death at Andersonville through his orders. Now I must 
say that w-e soon realized what a place it was in which we 
had to stay. It was the saddest and the most sickly place 
that I or any human being could conceive. Here we met 
with the most ghastly sights that eyes could ever behold,, 
for there were fathers, sons and kindred, of both North and 
South confined in this prison hell, starving to death, with no 
eve. as it seemed, to pity, and in tattered rags, and hundreds 
without a rag to cover their backs, and men found walking 
in the sluggish stream that ran through this stockade from 
the north to the south side, waiting for the water to get 
clear, which never did. I often think of these starving souls, 
and how it is that there were not more lunatics than there 
were. Right here I want to speak of the great spring that 
broke out on the northeast side of the prison, near the north 
gate, and all in answer to prayers to God. Oh, how often I 
now think of the wonderful prayer meetings, and oh. with 
what power did the real saints of God prevail through Christ, 
the Lord Jesus. I do thank God in later years that I have 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 17 

learned to trust fully in llini. Now think of poor suffering; 
humanity living" on less than one pint of tield peas for a day's 
rations for nearly thirteen months! Such was the suffering 
of many in this jirison, and how often I have thought how 
little one man's experience was. considering' the \ast suffer- 
ing in this place. Oh, this is a sad thing to contemplate, but 
in my old age and the crippled condition of my Ijody, and 
mental and bodil}' suffering, I have been led to write up for 
the last time, a true story of my life and suffering'. 

There has not been a moment of time the last four years, 
coming April 28th, that I liaven't suffered almost untold 
agony from a sexere fall from a basement barn, which un- 
jointed and broke my left hip and caused other internal in- 
juries, from which I can never recover. 

Xow there were many tilings that hapjiened in Ander- 
sonxille that ha\e never gone down in historv, simi)K- l)e- 
cause there were many things that were not generally 
known. There is the story of the hanging of the six men, 
and such things tliat are known l^y almost everv man whc 
was not there at the time, but now conies three men for their 
rations of the rebel sergeant, two brothers and a father. 
Well. \ery soon the poor old man gets sick and becomes so 
bad that he cannot rise from the cold, dani]) ground. Soon 
the scur\v takes hold of him, with nian\- other bodilv ail- 
ments. His sons are then called on to get his rations. The 
rebel sergeant thinks it is some ^'ankee trick. He was the 
rebel ])olice who was alwax's on hand at the time of issuing 
N'ankee rations. We used to remark thai the}' were so \'ery 
delicious you could smell them al least ten rods, ^'ou knew 
thev were coming if you were on the windward side, because 
tliev were cooked up some two or three days ahead of deal- 
ing (Hit and I if course tlie_\' would ferment and get sour. 
X'ow these were steamed in \er\' large hits, in two bushel 



18 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



sacks, and emi)tie(l into a large army cart drawn by a three 
mule team. As 1 was saying, here goes the two sons for 
their own and their father's rations. Von would think it 
\-ery cruel if you had been in their place and had just got less 
than one pint, and then ha\e those rel)el guards beset you 
as they did those poor boys and almost kill you for asking 
for a small bit of stuff that you would not be guilty of giving 
to your dog, for surely he would not eat it unless he were 
nearly starving. Then to see the rebel guards without any 
earthly excuse shoot men clear across the prison merely for 
pastime to let the southern ladies see how good and correct 
thev shoot, killing poor praying men. These are sad pic- 
tures, but thev are nevertheless true. And to think of men 
catching a small dog belonging to W'irz while he with Jeff 
Da\is were ins])ecting the prison, and skinning and eating 
it. and to punish them would make them go three days with- 
out rations. 1 ha\e seen men hght for a chance to carry out 
dead men to get a little fresh air. Now I feel that I should 
not linger much longer with these sad scenes, but hasten to 
the story of my final escape from the rebel prison. 

Now along late in the fall came a report that Sherman 
was on his wav ; that is. General Sherman, to release all of 
the prisoners of Andersonxille prison and at Macon. The 
rebels had sent papers to the i)rison, stating that they were 
going to take us to the nearest point of exchange. This they 
did so that we would not try to escape, while being removed 
to other quarters. Soon after this, in a very few days, there 
came a rush of cars, and they i)ut us aboard of these trains, 
composed of box cars, and we were crowded into bacon and 
cattle cars. As many as seventy-h\e or eighty of these poor 
star\ing men were put into one of these box cars and sent to 
different ([uarters of the South. Now at this time General 
Sherman was near Macon, about ten miles awav — when they 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 19 

sent the last train load of ns away from Andersonxille, and 
all the way we i)lainly saw the devastation of burned and 
destroyed railroads and stations. It seemed that the extent 
of the destruction was for over forty miles, and here our ])ro- 
gress was very slow and tedious. The train moved very 
slo.vly o\er all of this new road, and while passing- along 
thiough this country the rel)els would stop the train once 
in a while, to our great relief, and open the car doors to let 
the people see the Yankees, who were quite a sight for those 
Southern people. The}' would stand and gaze at us with 
great curiosity, and I ha\e no doubt it was a great siglit for 
them, for there were men in all conceivable shapes, without 
a rag to co\er their iKicks. Many of them were the hardest 
looking sights, 1 do believe, that my eyes ever l)eheld. and at 
one of those small stations there was quite a large gathering 
of people and a large company of young l)oys, who had just 
been conscripted into the rebel serxice. Here they all stood 
to see the great train load of Yankee ])risoners. 

Right here soiuething occurred that I can't forget very 
soon. The large car doors had been shoxecl l)ack and here 
stood the gazing and gaping crowd lookii^g us oxer and 
asking all sorts of {piestions. and many of them were eating 
melons and ai)plcs, and they would throw the peelings and 
cores in to us. There was one saucy appearing rough who 
threw a cud of tobacco in the face of a tall looking veteran. 
He was close to the car door and it went in his eyes. He 
C(mld not take this insult, and he iiun])ed from the train to 
resist it and trampled this voiuig rebel nearly to death, but 
he understood that he would be paid for his rash act with 
his life, for there were many rebels on each car with loaded 
gims. lust as soon as anv of the prisoners attemnted to 
lea\e the trains thev were slmt down without mercy. Oh. 
how manv there were who tried to escape ivom the train 



20 A TRUE WAR SFOKY. 



aiul were shot down by the rebels guarding" the train ! We 
were carried from Andersonxille to Charleston City, and 
here they ran us under the fire of our own guns and there 
were some severe shots fired at the train load of prisoners. 
There were cjuite a few shots that hit some of the cars, but 
soon the firing ceased. I think that it w^as soon learned that 
it was not an enemy reinforcement. Here they kept us in 
some large tobacco houses when it w-as learned that during 
the two or three days we had been in the box cars, so many 
in each car, and so close that there was not sitting room for 
them all. As I said before, there were seventy-five or eighty 
in one car. Some one had sawed a hole in the bottom of the 
car that we were placed in, which let us have more air than 
we would otherwise have had. It was a sad sight to see from 
eight to ten poor fellows taken out of each car half sufifo- 
cated. 

After our journey up to the unloading here at Charleston 
City it was wonderful to see the devastated condition of this 
place. There w-ere many buildings that were falling from the 
solid shot that was being thrown into them from our bom- 
barding army. 

The next day we were all placed on board of the cars 
once more and started in the direction of Florence, South 
Carolina, one hundred miles from this city. Here we were 
once more unloaded and placed in a ten acre lot, for the 
stockade was not completed, which was thought would have 
been completed in about two weeks. Here again we found 
that our looked for exchange w^as still another bull pen, or < 
Southern prison hell and worse. There were all of the same 
Andersonville bloodhounds and Captain Wirz, the old com- 
mander, here to give us chase as soon as any of us should 
try to escape. We had been here, surrounded by two lines of 
guards and a line of pickets, for about five days, when the 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 21 

rebels let out a large company l)et\veen the guard lines, an.l 
they broke through the next line and got away, three or four 
hundred, and many got as far as the Peedee River, some 
thirty-four miles avvav. Nearly all were caught and chew-ed 
up by the hounds and shot so that there were not more than 
one-fourth of them ever brought back alive. 

Henrv Ledierer. an old conu-ade and bugler of the 
eighty-third regiment, and of comi)any C. of this regiment. 
the same one that I belonged to, and who was with me while 
in Andersonville prison, was with me here at this Florence 
prison. He was one to get away from here and was one to 
get as far as the big Peedee River, some thirty-four miles 
from the prison, and if I remember right was caught and 
brought back some three days later. He was caught by a 
southern planter, who had been warned by the rebels of the 
break that had been made by the prisoners. Henry had 
brought back some eight or ten ])Ounds of corn hoecake and 
he and mvself concluded that if we could get a chance we 
would get awav just as soon as we could. The day soon 
came, for it commenced to rain the next day after Henry got 
back, and when night came we made ready and crawled out 
through the first guard line, and then we laid in wait for a 
Xorlhcrn s(|uad of about a hundred and fifty men who were 
let out through the first line for water near the bull pen 
which thev had not com])leted yet. and when these men got 
outside of the first line of guards, there lay just outride of the 
next line a lot of the sick on the ground with nothing but 
the canopy of heaven to co\er or shelter them from the 
storm. We finalh- fell in with this working scpiad and passed 
out through the second line here. Just as soon as we came 
to where the sick la>- it was un.derstood that we would fall 
out among the sick witlioul being seen by the enemy, and we 
were successful in doing this. .\nd now came the i)icket 



22 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



line and if it had not been for their reckless picket tire \V2 
ne\er would have succeeded in our escape. We finally got 
through their picket line and tra\-eled all night until morn- 
ing began to dawn, when we had to find some place to con- 
ceal oursehes. lUit it had been a bad night for us. 

We had got out of the prison, but to tell in what direc- 
tion to go was the next thing to consider. Well, we were 
guided by the railroad station lights until we got out of 
sight of the stations, then as we had nothing to guide us we 
had to do the best we could. It still continued to rain until 
we had traxeled all night, when we found ourselves in sight 
of the \"ery prison that we had left early in the evening. This 
was a surprise, for we had traveled nearly eight hours, and to 
find ourseh'es within three miles of the xer}- prison that we 
were trying to get awav from. Surelv it made us feel sad 
enough. 

As 1 was saying, the day was about at hand and the next 
thing to do was to find some place in which to conceal our- 
selves until night should close in, and while we were still 
looking we soon came to a large stack of corn fodder, and in 
this we crawled and remained until night again. Late in 
and during our first night's traxel we found nothing to sub- 
sist on. but Henrv had a small amount of hoecake that he 
had brought back with him, but which was now all gone, and 
there was no water near us. We were so close to the prison 
we could see the encampment. Oh, what a day of suspense, 
with these Holland bloodhounds running in almost all di- 
rections, hunting the trail that the rain had washed out. For 
this we had reasons to thank God. When night set in w-e 
started again, and the rain that had continued to fall had now 
let up for a time and the stars came out. It had been very 
rainy for two days and nights. Now we felt glad to have 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 23 

Star li^'lit for we liad studied out the small cluni]) of stars 
called tlie small di])])er and also tlie north star. 

X^ow this niii'lit we liad liefore us al)Out thirty miles be- 
fore we came to the IJii^" Peedee Ri\er. ddiis ri\er runs 
nearly north and soutli. Well, we tra\eled as fast as we 
could, keeping- very shy of any inhabitants, for in South 
Carolina it is \ery difficult to find a Union man. 

We found some sweet ])Otatoes on our way to help us 
along". 

Praise (lod! How much 1 think of the little faith we 
had in (lod at that time, but I am sure He cared for and ])ro- 
tected us. 

Well, just before dawn the second night we came in hear- 
ing of the roaring of the river, for this ri\er had several 
large falls in it. and vou could hear the sound of them before 
vou came within a mile or so of them. We came to the 
water's edge. We had no sooner got on the l)ank of the 
ri\er than we discoxered that the re1)els were in pursuit of 
us, for we could hear the faint baying of hounds. This al- 
most made our hearts (piake. for Henry Ledierer had told 
me the reason that he did not try to swim the ri\er was 
because the fellow who was with him could not swim and he 
himself was a \ erv ]joor swimmer. Xow this was \ery dis- 
couraging, for the ri\er was at least three-cpiarters of a mile 
across and oxertlowed the banks nearly a half mile in two or 
three feet of water. lUit we must start, for the hounds came 
closer and closer each delayed moment. We plunged in. T 
had it understood that we must swim a western course down 
stream so that the cm-rent would help us in gaining the other 
side. .\ow it remained for us to get the hounds between us 
and the river so that we could get out of the way of pursuit 
as far as possil)le, but what was my sur]-)rise to find my com- 
rade could not swim against the current of the ri\er. T had 



24 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



got some ten rods ahead, when 1 found that he was floating- 
down stream with the current. Oh, how sad I felt to think 
the hounds w-ere ahuost hea\ing- in sight and that mv poor 
comrade, whom I had decided to stand bv in every place pos- 
sible until death should separate us, struggling in the angry 
billows. Now it seemed that the time had arrived, for he 
had already called to me that he could not go any farther, 
and had sank once below the current, and just as I reached 
him he went under again. I reached out my cane that some- 
how I had kei)t in mv left hand. He caught it like any 
drowning man would, and it was all I could do to keep him 
from drowning both of us. Well we got ashore just as the 
rebels came in sight. They had been looking for some of 
our men e\-er since the break to pick up if they could any 
straggling Yankees who had not yet been captured. We 
were now destined to a few days of severe chasing, if not 
capture, for there were in pursuit of us four or five mounted 
rebels and three of the .\nderson\-ille bloodhounds. During 
all of this (lav and most of the night we had been pursued 
along this ri\er, and during- the day we were compelled to 
cross the river the third time to keep froni being captured 
What suffering, without anything to eat ! We began to get 
very hungry and weak, still we kept on late in the night 
For three days and a good part of the night we were beset 
by these hounds, when in the afternoon of the third day the 
blast of the horns and the baying of the hounds ceased. For 
some distance we had traveled among the elm timber along 
the river flats. Finally we came to a road which led oft' t* 
the left from the ri\'er, and we thought we would follow this 
road. Just at this time there came a sudden l)last of a horn, 
and, looking in the direction of the sound, we saw an old 
gray-headed negro with a white horse coming in our direc 
tion. who was beckonino- to us to listen. He went on to tell 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



US that tlie rel)els luid ^-iNcn tip ptirstiit of tis. and lie had 
been close to them and to us most all day. and that his old 
master was in hopes that we would not l^e taken. We did 
not want to beliexe him, for we had come to the conclusion 
that most all South Carolians were bad rebels and we felt 
rather suspicious of any one who would speak a kind word 
for a white man. It showed the darker to be a kind old man 
and he told me in his old southern way. "Why, massy, for de 
lobe of de Lord. I would not tell you a lie." Well I must 
say that he induced us to stay in the woods concealed in the 
thicket, and he went a\vay making us a promise that he 
would be back soon with somethincr for us to eat. I told 
Henry that I would go cner near the road in the direction 
from whence he would come and stav until he arrived, and 
would hiid out whether he meant us an^• harm or not. Soon 
I came back again. The poor old man went away singing in 
a low \oice some tune, and I went back to where Henry was. 
We waited, satisfied that h.e was a friend in need. .\t this 
time it was about nine or ten o'clock in the evening and 
when the old darkcA' shin\ed up he had brought two large 
hoecakes and some nice stewed bacon in one of those small 
stew kettles, and some of the new sorghum cane syrup. 
Now if e\"er we were thankftil for anything" in this wide w^orld 
we were for this kindness shown tis by this poor old pilgrim, 
whom I believe was (iod's own messenger. Now we sat and 
ate and talked and told the did man of how we ha<l suttered 
in rebel ])ris(iiis and nianx' other things, and this jxior old 
man told us that his master was a good I'nion man and that 
he would like to see us. This we did not desire to do. as we 
did not care to meet an\- white man. We told the old darkey 
that we feared to meet with his old ni;ister. and all the darkey 
cotild say, would not induce us to go to the plantation. So 
we staved concealed in the forest for three da\-s. with 



26 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



notliino' to protect lis from the cold, damp nic^hts except a 
laro-e amount of leaxes that I had gathered np to lay in. 

Now this reminds me that I did not give the date of my 
capture and of mv getting away. It must have been about 
the first of August. I was taken in the fall of 1864. Henry 
was taken about the time of the Battle of the WTlderness. 
Now, the time of our escape was al)out the middle of Novem- 
ber, and I tell you it was at this time getting to be very cold 
nights. Well, once a day, up to the third night, the old man 
continued to come and bring something for us to eat, and 
the third night he came he urged so hard to go to the plan- 
tation that we concluded to g'o with him. When we got t-. 
the i)lantation barn we found two other men there. One of 
them was an Irishman and the other a Frenchman. Both of 
them had been concealed here for over a week. They were 
both from the same jM'ison, but we found out \ery soon that 
we did not want an}thing to do with them for the old darkey 
brought four large hoecakes to be dixided, each to have one 
a niece, but the Irishman broke one in two and gave Henry 
and 1 half of (Mie a i)iece, and he and the Frenchman took 
the other three. This we told the old darkev and he l)rought 
enough to make it all right the next morning, and I and 
Henry concluded that we ne\er would travel a mile with 
them if we could help it. So we found out the next morning 
that the old i)lanter had looked in on us when the darkey 
brought us our food for the last night of our stay at this 
plantation, for it was understood that the next day was 
Sunday, the hrst Sunday that we had known for a long time, 
and the old planter was going to church. Our old friend, 
the darkey, was going to ferry us across the ri\er again for 
another start for our lines. The next day dawned \erv 
beautiful and our sleep in the planter's barn was \ ery good 
and undisturbed. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 27 



Just as soon as the old planter had i^onc to church the 
old colored man took us all to the river, where the little and 
bis;' Peedee Rivers join, and here he ferried us across. Now 
this boat in which we were carried was one that the old man 
«*-ood up in and used his paddle in the stern end, and as soon 
as we g-ot across the river we concluded to separate from the 
other two fellows and travel alone. It was our intention not 
to travel any at all by day, if we could only avoid it. and to 
get away from the two fellows who had taken our hoecake 
was our desire. 

\\> had traveled Init a short distance when we came to a 
j)ublic road. There were about ten or fifteen negroes on this 
road. The Irishman wanted apple jack, and it seemed that 
to get a hold of this apple brandy was the most he desired. 
So he and the Frenchman went to the road, and. calling to 
the darkies, told them wdiat their desire was, and from the 
chuckling of the darkies we came to the conclusion from 
what we heard that it would not be long before they would 
get something that they were not looking for. for at the time 
of the break at the bdoreuce ])rison the country was aroused 
aiid armed, and thev told the negroes that the \'ankee man 
w?iS so ])owerful that he would eat up a black man. The 
people were all armed for miles around and as soon as they 
would tree anv of our men they would shoot them out of the 
trees as fast as thev would come to them. Now this super- 
stition liad spread all over the country, and it was nothing 
hut the most intelligent class wdio would be ready to help 
capture and kill these flying fugitives. They would kill them 
for pastime and amusement. 

Now as s()(in as it was understood bv the Irishman ami 
his chum that they would soon be supplied with apple jack, 
they waited until the return of the darkies, and it was not 
longer than lialf or thrcc-cpmrters of an hour before we heard 



28 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



the sound of hounds and the blast of horns. We knew wel! 
enough what this ah meant, and just as soon as these fehows 
met the darkies we started in the direction of the river again 
and made as fast prog'ress as we could until we came to ? 
swamp. We went into this morass as far as we could — 
through the mire and water to a\oid pursuit of the hounds. 
We could hear the bay of the hounds and the blast of horns. 
We did feel bad to think that these poor simple fellows 
would run right into danger as they had done! It might 
have been about an hour before we heard the discharge of 
fire arms and all was still c.gain and so ended. I have no 
doubt but that two more lives of fleeing prisoners were sacri 
ficed. They had escaped from what was more than death — 
a Southern hell — as these prison pens were called, only tc 
be shot to death. 

Now we lav here in this quagmire marsh until night set 
in and then we started again, never intending to travel after 
night miless compelled to do so. The way that we intende(' 
to travel lay in a northwesterly direction, and oh, such sus 
pense and fear as a man will have in traveling in the cold 
part of the vear in the enemy's country, surrounded on every 
side by a gaping mob and howling" hounds, and many a 
time while we were traveling near any road have we come 
upon a large company of rebels, almost on us before we 
would know it. We would, lay down wherever we could 
sometimes not over fifty feet away, and lay there until it 
seemed as though e\ery eye was turned on us. 

There are many incidents that happened that I nexei 
will be able to relate here in this tale of mv escape. As T 
was saying, when night again set in it found us on our way 
to complete our tra\ el. We had come a good, long journey 
without anything- occurring of any note for several nights or 
<lays, until we got within sixty or se\enty miles of the Nortl' 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 31 



Carolina line. We had not had anything- to eat for several 
davs. except hard corn and once in a while some raw sweet 
potatoes that we had gathered along the way. We had at 
this time camped, or stopped, as I should say, in a secluded 
place in the forest, near a nice ravine, and in the forest quite 
a distance from any inhabitants. We had been traveling, as 
we had concluded to do, nights, and to sleep by day, and 
at this place we had got up just before night on Saturday. 
We thought we would move on a short distance, when w 
spied about Hfty wild turkeys, and we tried hard to kill some 
of these, but we could not get near them, so we traveled on 
for some little distance, when we came to an old g-rist mill, 
some ways from any settlement. All around this mill there 
was corn growing, and it was loose and dry in the husk, so 
we gathered about a bushel of this corn and shelled it and 
tried our hands at milling. This mill we found was an old 
overshot wheel and it had l)Ut one run of stone. It seemed it 
had just been shut down .so we took the corn we had shelled 
and put it in the ho])per. This did surely seem like a great 
undertaking, Init we let it run, raising the gate and letting 
on a full force. Our small grist ran through the mill very 
fast, and just as soon as we could we scooped up the damp 
and smoking meal, and not any too soon either, for just 
about three-fourths of a mile away came two or three 
Johnnies on the run to see what had hai)i)ened. We ran into 
the woods west of the mill, leaving it running full blast. We 
ought to ha\e shut down the waste gate to the old mill, but 
we had no time to lose, as we thought, if we got away. W e 
found some old sacks that we carried our meal in. Xow we 
did not know what use we could make of this meal, but still 
we thought we miglit come across some darkey who would 
make some hoecake out (^f it. 



32 A TRUE WAR STORY 



Well, we traveled along," in this timber for some little 
time, for fear that these rebels would pursue us, and just as 
night was closing in we came to where there was a woman 
chopping wood in these woods, and we lay concealed and 
watched her cho]) until she got ready to go home. Then we 
made ourselves known to her. She seemed to be very much 
frightened all the way home, and when she arrived at her 
house she told us that she had a husband in the army — I 
think in the Union army — at Knoxville, Tenn., and she told 
us how she was left w-ith one boy and two girls. Her boy. 
just a few days before we arrived there, had been caught in 
the house, right on the hearth in the log cal)in, where wr 
now were, and had been shot down at his own mother's feet. 
He had been conscripted some months before and had been 
a w^anderer in the forest, pursued by home guards, as they 
were called, but they were nothing but bands of guerillas, 
scattered all over the states, and this poor woman told 
Henry and I that her husband had been a good Union man 
before and since the war. It did seem strange that this poor 
woman should l)e compelled to cut this four-foot coal wood 
with which to make charcoal, and this was also used in 
making powder to shoot our Union boys. 

Oh, yes, after she had related this sad story to us, she 
urged us to leave her house just as soon as we could, for she 
declared that there would soon be a band of rebel home 
guards along, and that they would kill us as soon as cap- 
tured. We let her have the corn meal. I think that we had 
done the first milling in the southern country in the manu- 
facture of corn meal. I have often heard the rumble of that 
old mill in my imagination since we left it running away. 
Oh, such speed, and such smoking from the fast heating 
stones ! 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 35 



Well, as I was sa}-ing'. this woman told us that there was 
a poor old eolored man down in a \alley south of the hotisci 
where she lived, about three-fourths of a mile away. \N e 
had not yet left her house, south of the road, when we heard 
the clatter of hoofs and of gallopino- steeds. At least two 
hundred of these home guards, or cut throats, as they were 
more commonly called, came rapidly up to this poor w'oman's 
house and halted for a few moments. We kept concealed to 
see what mij^iit tiu'n up, and as soon as they w-ent on we 
went down the valley until we came to the place that we had 
been directed to — the old colored man's hut. This w^as about 
eight o'clock in the evening and we saw to our amazement 
a little hut in the side of the west bank of this valley bluff 
In front of this hut stood the poor old pilgrim, singing a 
beautiful hymn. We had found again one of God's true 
servants. He seemed to be about eight v vears old. He had 
been in some way taught to read, and had a good idea of his 
Divine Creator. Well w'e had a good meeting with the old 
man. Init all we found to eat, that the poor old man m;ide us 
welcome to, was a small piece of mutton chops and about a 
pint of beans. After a long talk, he told us there was a 
good old Quaker whom he knew would befriend us if we 
would go with him. After he had declared the Quaker to be 
a truly good man we finally concluded to trust the old man, 
but we decided to keep our eyes on him while we went with 
him. He also told us that this man had a large sugar planta 
tion. which he worked \cry late nights. Now our fare of 
chops and beans was becoming very slim, and we began to 
get very hungry. T tell you it is hard to relate what a hungrv 
man wouldn't do before he would allow himself to starve 
to death. This T have had the sad experience of witnessing, 
and T pray to God it will nc\cr occur again. Well, this 
(Juaker's place was about one and one-half miles from the 



34 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



old darkey's place. We started at about 9 130 o'clock, and 
after we arrived at the plantation the house we found was a 
large brick structure. Ji-ist beyond we could hear the sound 
of mills grinding cane and the noise of the factory. We went 
just a little ways from the old planter's house and here ]\Ir. 
Ledierer and myself waited, while the old darkey went on to 
get the old planter, or to see him in our behalf. Now, for 
fear the old man was working some scheme to betray us, T 
went on ahead of where Henry was to hear what the conver- 
sation might be. As soon as the planter had heard the olJ 
darkey's story, he discharged all of his hands and came to 
where we were. I was about ten yards in advance of Henry 
when they came along, and just as soon as I heard their talk 
I was con\'inced that we had fallen into the hands of a Godly 
man and a true christian pilgrim Ouaker. Just as soon as he 
met us he took us by the hand, called on God to bless us, 
and whatever lay in store for us. Thank Ciod, dear reader, 
for these apostles of Christ ! 

We went to the old planter's house and he had a boy 
stationed near the corners of the road to keep watch for any- 
one who might he coming, for the honie guards would go 
bv at most all hours of the dav and night. Well, soon the 
kind old Ouaker let us knov; that our midnight repast 
awaited us and he in\ited us to come and sit down to their 
table where his lo\-ing wife was seated. Here was a table 
s])read with clean linen and napkins, and we poor, starved, 
wahving skeletons without anything but rags to cover our 
feet from the snow and wet ! Our drawers and shirts were 
made up of all of our attire, and oh, imagine our feelings, 
to l)e seated at such a repast that awaited us! And as we sat 
down to the table of our hostess and folded our arms as he 
returned thanks to his Supreme Maker the tears flowed from 
mv eves as T thousfht of home and mv dear old mother. That 



A TRUE WAR STORY. ;}5 



table and its clean spread i)ut nic in nnnd of her. Mv dear 
comrade, thoni^h as bra\e as any man 1 believe I lia\e ever 
met sat Ijy my side, and as we sat there thinking- of the em- 
barrassed situation we were in. we were like two weak 
children. The hostess sympathized with us in our distress. 
Well, we soon took hold of the repast, for we had not eaten 
l)ut a very few meals to a table in over two and a half years. 
They were \ery anxious for us to tell what we had suffered 
in prison and seemed deliohted to hear of our experiences. 
We would sit up evenins^-s and tell of these incidents. We 
had stayed with this good old Quaker four days, and the 
fourth day we had it understood that we would start again 
on our journey. So when the time came for us to go it 
seemed like parting with the best of friends, leaving them 
never to meet again. T have often thought and trulv believe 
that (iod will reward these good people for their many kind- 
nesses to us. Now when all things were in readiness the^- 
furnished us with a large sack of stewed chicken and a mes' 
of cakes, the best they could furnish, and with good ad\ice 
we parted. The name of this man 1 ha\e forgotten in thi- 
narrative. 1 wish to mention the excellent concealment that 
this good man had for us in his barn during our stay witli 
him. He had a \ery nice l)arn which was on the south side 
of the road. It seems that the road runs east and west, and 
on the west side (»f the barn there was a large hav mow. and 
in the further end from the door he pulled out a large bundl-. 
of hay tied up in good shape which revealed a passage clear 
around the back of the mow and to the other end. TJiere 
was a good bed that we slept on during our stav there, and 
through the day our food would be l)rougIit to us, and 
nearl\- e\cry day. througli a knot hole we could see guerillas 
g'oing by, and sometimes stti])ping and hooking arounri the 
place. Now T come back .igain to where we parted. The 



36 A TRUE WAR STORY 



kind old man had given iis the direction where we could 
meet another man on our way who was friendly to Union 
soldiers. We tried to find his place on this shallow road 
which was about thirty-five or forty miles distant from this 
Quaker's plantation. He told us to be sure and remember 
that his name was John Coltraines. He also told us about 
this man's having a brother about a mile further along on the 
same road by the name of "Bill" Coltraines. One of these 
brothers was a Union man and the other a rebel. John, the 
kind old Quaker told us, was engaged in piloting Union men. 
as well as rebels, through our lines. The first night, not get- 
ting started as early as we ought, we only got about eight 
or ten miles on our way when we stopped and concealed 
ourselves. We had been living rather sumptuously and 
sleeping nights instead of laying still by day and traveling 
by night. We laid by this nigh.t. Henry and I lay concealed 
the best part of the next day, planning what we intended to 
do when we arrived home. We talked of either going to his 
parents' place or to my folks' home. 

We v/ould conceal ourselves until e\'erybody had gone 
and then we would take possession and have everything to 
ourselves, and have everything to eat that we could think of. 
Being starved as we had been seemed to weaken our minds. 
Well, dear reader, if you could have seen the plight we were 
in and some of the nests of leaves that we gathered up for 
many a night to cuddle up in to snatch a few hours' rest and 
to inspect the tattered drawers and shirt that covered our 
starved skeletons, your sympathy would ha\-e been aroused. 
Soon the day dawned again and we lay concealed, sleeping 
and eating until toward night. Our stopping with the 
Quaker planter seemed to get us more in the notion of eating 
and of having some regular time in which to eat, but we 
could not let the sack of ^ood alone which we allowed would 



A TRUE WAR STORY 37 



last us four or five days, it suri)riscd us how soon it was 
o-one for before nii^bt of Saturday we had eaten about all wc 
had started with. 

We started again about eight o'clock to make more pro- 
gress than we had the night before, hoping to find our friend. 
John Coltraines, of whom the good old Quaker had told us. 
We had to go very slow on the start, for this was a main 
thoroughfare and a state road, along which there was a good 
deal of travel. \\'e were liable to run into rebels at most any 
time, but after al)out ten o'clock we had less danger of meet- 
ing with anv travelers on the way. There were squads of 
rebels traveling along this road at all hours of the night, sc 
w^e concluded to travel and make all the headway possible. 
We had traveled most of the night, which was far spent, and 
I had been stojiping all along the way asking for something 
to eat. but had not been able to get anything. Once or 
twice I had been driven from the door with double-barreled 

shot guns. 

We did not get clear through to our friend John's, but 
stopped after traveling about twenty-five miles or so. There 
were mile posts along this road, so that we could tell how^ 
far we were traveling in a day or night. After the second 
(lav had passed it found us again on the third night eating 
hard corn from the cob. as we had often done before, when 
it was ncn good for us lo let ourselves be known along the 
way. We made u]) our minds to get to where John Colt- 
raines lixed this niglit if wc could, for our old friend who 
had given us the direction of his abode, told us it we could 
onlv find him he would help us through to our lines without 
an\- trouble. We started with the full determination of get- 
ting thrcnigh to our lines this night if the Lord was willing, 
and until midnight had past we had got out of the way and 
let s(pia<ls of rebels pas> and repass along the way and still 



38 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



we had made some headwa}'. After about the michiight hour 
I had sto])|)ed se\eral times to make some inquiries as to 
where John Coltraines li\ed. without apparently an}- suc- 
cess. I had also asked for lioecake. and in return I had a 
doul)le-l:)arreled i^'un pointed through the door at me. Th.is 
kind of fare we had been recei\ing- all along the way. Xe\er 
on our whole journey did fate seem to be so much against 
us as it did at this place, for we had not obtained a Ijite to 
eat for most three days, except the first. I had began to ge' 
quite jealous of my dear friend Henry, for I had been sto]:>- 
ping- to en(|uire the wav and he had not stopped, running 
the chances of l)eing" shot at, and 1 l)eg"an to find fault, as 
every jealous person will, \\ith nn' \-ery best friend and com 
rade that 1 beliexe I ex'cr met in this wide world. I do lie- 
lie\'e if 1 should meet him and he had 1)ut fi\e dollars he 
would di\'ide with me, and when Henry heard me talk to him 
about his being a little cowardl)' he felt \ery bad. and told 
me through his tears that he was no coward if I did think 
he was. This sad talk, and with such feeling, broke me up. 
and T caught mv grie\ed old comrade by the hand and 
wanted him to forgive me for this unkind talk, which T 
promised would ne\er again ha|)pen, and 1 wish to thank 
God that it ne\er did. nenr\- was determined that he would 
show me that he was no coward and he told me that he meant 
to sto]) at the \■er^' next house. Xow we had been told by 
our guide that we must not stop at William Coltraines', or 
"Bill," as he was connuonly called, for he was captain of tlie 
rebel home guards, or of a band of guerillas. \\> had gotten 
very clo-e to where John C(dtrain.es li\ed, and it was best 
that we should go slow, as we had l)een told about the barn 
which was a \•er^' large one, on the west side of the road, and 
the big wood colored house on the other side located on a 
raised lawn. Sexeral ste])s of scpiare blocks led u]) to the 



A TRIE WAR STORY. 41 



house. We came to this place, and Henry, not heedins^ my 
warnini;-. at once started up these steps. I continued to call 
to him to stop, but he would not. He went to the large 
piazza and knocked on the door. I still called to him, but he 
did not heed, so determined was he that he would demon- 
strate to me that he was no coward. I could see very plainly 
that this was the \ery house we had l)een warned not to stop 
at. vet Henrv continued to knock. There was a gruff voice 
heard, which I will never forget until my dying day, asking 
who was there. Henry told him that it was a friend. He was 
not satished, but still insisted on knowing who it was. Then 
Henrv inquired where John, his own brother, lived. The 
old ca])tain told him he would soon let him know where he 
h\ed, so he came to the door and shoved out a double- 
l)arreled shot gun. and before i)o()r Henry had time to 
dodge, shoved my poor comrade and friend to the ground. I 
thought when he struck the ground that he had been killed, 
but soon he rose to his feet and pleaded for the rebel to si)are 
his life. Just at this moment I rushed up to the top of the 
lawn, or stone steps, when he caught sight of me, and just as 
he was al)out to level his gun on me I dropped backward and 
struck on all fours at the bottom of the steps. Just as I did 
so Henry took advantage of the situation and hurried behind 
the house. He ran clear around and down through a cane 
field in the direction we had been going, and as soon as 1 
could gain mv feet I started down the riKid as fast as my legs 
could carrv me. The rebel by this time was also at the road 
sifle and sent another shot after me. The first shot came 
verv close. Just as T fell to the ground the rebel turned hi- 
fire on my comrade just as he turned the corner of the house 
Now as soon as the second shot was tired at me he hastened 
to the barn, no doubt to get some steed with which to ]nu-sue 
us. Tnst then there seemed to be a great stir at that planta- 



42 A TRUE \VAF< STORY. 



tion house. My desire was to ajoain oet with Henry, and 
stopping", I placed ni}^ fing-ers to mv month and whistled tlie 
third l)rigade call. At the time of Henry's capture he was 
despatch carrier for our l3rig-ade and also the bugler of our 
regiment. Now I had learned to gi\e the call on m\' lingers. 
This is the call in words: "Dan. Dan Butterfield ! Butter- 
held, get up you i)oor dex'il as cpiick as vou can, and when 
3'ou get tired I will rest you again." This repeated in the 
first words on a horn or whistle is verv interesting to anyone 
who has e\-er heard the call. Now to whistle this call right in 
the face of an en.emy seemed a hard task, hut it had to be 
done. Soon there came an answer, and within five minutes 
we were again on our wav. but the thought of ever meeting 
with John Coltraines was now' abandoned. 

We had to change our course and lea\e this road, never 
to traxel it again. A\'e struck out to the west of this road, 
the road, as I ha\'e stated, running north and south. We 
made as good time as we could in order t(^ reacli a forest 
that seemed to lay off to the west. By this time it was now 
well on t(nvard two o'clock in the morning. We succeede<« 
in getting into a thick swam])\' region which we had ex'ery 
reason to l)elie\'e sa\-ed our li\es. for from the sounds we 
heard we came to the conclusion that we were being looked 
after in this swamp, and that it was no desirable place to be 
in. It was a \'erv bad quagmire swamp, with moss hanging 
frc^m the trees, and a l)ad ]dace to stop in at night, let alone 
the day. For the next few days and nights, without a smell 
of meat or hoecake, or anv such thing, except hard corn, we 
had nothing more to eat, and our companv (ku' and night 
was moccasin snakes and other rattling and hissing reptiles 
Still we trax'elcd. not fearing the wild animals as much as we 
did the rebels with their lu^rns and hounds. Well. 1 must 
sav that, vouu"- as T was at that time, it was cjne of the worst 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 43 

and most dreary times in the lines of life's pages. To e\"en 
contemplate it now seems almost like a dream. 

Well, after sleeping- and tra\'eling almost night and day 
continually — cloudy weather some of the time and lost some 
of the time — we finally came out where there was a large 
plantation on this Shelterford road some sixtv miles from 
where I had been shot at and to which I had been directed 
by hearing- the dancing of two small negroes and the patting 
and singing- of a large negro in one of the negro huts. Here 
we stopped and ate the last meal together and the last night 
that we ever traveled together in this southern country. ( )h, 
how sad it niakes me feel when I think back of the lonelv 
nights that we both s])ent. traveling the balance of our 
journey! A\'ell, as I was speaking of our last meal together: 
It was at the supiier of two rebel bushwhackers, and these 
two rebels who were staying at this rebel plantation were 
men who would slioot down a poor Heeing prisoner on sight, 
and this made us uneasy to get away. This darker had ])lacecl 
in the tire, in an old-fashioned hre i:>lace, a mess of large 
sweet i)otatoes for us to carry along with us. as he told us. 
but this lie did intending to kee]) us until the two rebel 
guerillas came in on us. We had told this negro how well 
the old (Juaker had used us during our sta\- with him. and T 
think that this darkey took adxantage of this to fool us in 
telling us that one of these n-ien sta\-ing here was a Quaker 
and he did not know what the other was. Me seemed to be 
so uneasy that it aroused us. ;nid we had iu-t .arose to go 
when the gate opened in front of the hut and the two little 
bl.ack darkies slii)])ed out un])ekno\\n lo u.--. The\- had taken 
with them a ham that lleury carried along with him. fust 
at this time wc did not know what to (\i). for an instant, but 
I hail learned that my dear conu-ade was no coward, for her^ 
he showed the bra\est thing that T had witnessed in a loni 



44 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



time. I told the darkey that if he told of our whereabouts 
as we crawled under the l)ed. that we would kill him if it 
was the last thing- we exer did. Wdiat my dear comrade did 
and which was his last bra\e act was to tell me to crawl 
under the bed and leave all to him. He thought he could get 
us out of the trouble all right. The two little darkies had 
already told the rebels of our eating up their supper, and 
one of these rebels, it seemed, went to the old planter's house 
for a double-barreled shot gun and the other rebel came into 
the negro cabin. Now this cabin was like all other planta 
tion huts. It had one door and one window- on the east side, 
in the former of which a rebel stood, and a fire place in the 
north end. made of stone and sticks and daubed with red 
clav, and in the corner at the foot of the bed was a ladder 
Between this ladder, close to the straw cot, lay my comrade, 
and iust as soon as the rebel commenced to ask the negro 
what was the matter, and the darkey standing in the middle 
of the hut with mouth wide open. Henry arose to his feet 
and spoke to the rebel, bidding him good evening. It took 
the rebel so nuich by surprise it seemed as though poor 
Henry could have snatched one of his weapons from his 
scabbard and ;hot him with one of his own guns, but it 
seemed that tlni Lord had another way for us to get out of 
this dilemma. Henry was trying to find his cane that he had 
left in the corn ir that he might surprise the rel)el still more. 
but the little darkies had made way with it. So after the 
first surprise the rebel began to think of his weapons, and 
drew them for the first time, asking Henry where he was 
going. Henry told him he was going north to a large ri\-er 
that we expected to cross. "Well." said the i ibel "now 
man}' are there of you?" Henry told him there -ycrc two of 
us. Oh, how uneasy 1 was at this time, under a bed in a 
nee'ro hut. betraved. and. as I thouuht. almost in the iaws of 



A TRUE WAR STORY 45 



(leatli ! Still he asked Henry where the other fellow w'as, and 
Henry told him I was out in the road. The rebel told Henry 
to go out and tell me to come in and he would fix him in 
about a minute. This was wdiat Henry desired — to get out 
once for a start — so he went right off in a southern direction, 
and just as soon as the rebel started after him I got out of 
the hut as soon as I could. The darkey tried to stop me, 
but W'ith one swing of my club I placed him out of my way 
\\ hen I got to the road fence the rebels saw me running in 
the opposite direction. I made for the timber in a north- 
easterly direction as fast as I could, and very soon there was 
heard the blast of horns and the baying of hounds in pursuit 
of me. Oh, how gloomy and heart sick I was to find myself 
separated from my comrade, with hounds and rebels in pur- 
suit of me. It must at this time have been about one o'clock 
in the morning. Soon thereafter it began to rain very hard. 
All at once the hounds came upon me, but they did not seem 
to be as fierce as the blood hounds of Andersonville. Shortly 
the blast of the horns ceased, and the hounds stopped follow 
ing us. This was the last of our being together. 

Now, my tra\cl the balance of the way to our lines, of 
over four hundred miles, was alone, and a sad and lonely 
journey it proved to be. Well, I have learned from Henry 
what he did after he ran south. 'J"he poor boy came back to 
the negro shanty after it sat in and commenced to rain, to 
find out, if he could, whether the rebels had captured me, or 
had, as he thought, shot me, for as he made away they turned 
their attention to me, and he heard them shoot at me as T 
iett tlie negro shanty. Henry came back to this shantv. 
The negro had drank an ap]ile jack and was so drunk in 
consequence that Henry could not wake him, although he 
hammered him with his cane. He then went to the encamp- 
ment of a large band of guerillas, and here he whistled on his 



46 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



fing'ers the call of the brigade which we l:»elonged to until he 
aroused the w'hole encampment. Well, dear reader, it is 
^'ery seldom that one comrade \\\]\ do this for another. 

On the l)anks of the I3ig Peedee ri\er, after we had 
sw-am this stream three times in one day, and each time I had 
carried poor Henry on a cane across my left shoulder, we 
pledged ourselves that we would not forsake each other in 
life or in death. Now I remained in this timber, thinkin.g 
that Henry might come this way and we would again get 
together, but I was destined to disappointment, though I 
continued to make the call on my fingers, yet did not give u]> 
in despair. If I had I could not have written this simple nar- 
rati\-e. 

Well, I must hasten along. I lay by a good part of the 
next dav in this forest. Then I kept on in a northern direc- 
tion until I came to the ri\er that Henry spoke tt^ the rebel 
of. Now while crossing this ri\-er I had since learned that 
Henrv and I mioht ha\e gotten together again if we had 
onlv known each other, for below me, as I was told the. 
story, there was a rebel, to all appearances, crossing the ri\'er 
about one hundred rods distant. AA'e both told the same 
story, onlv he allow-ed the reljel was just such a distance 
above him, and right here, if we had understood, we couhl 
have gotten together again, but it seems our lives still laid 
aj^art from each other. 

T am in holies that we mav meet some day — if not in tliis 
world, that we will in the world to come. 

Praise God! Wx mind is continually trusting in Him 
that He will keep me in the truth in this narrative. 

Now, as I continue the sad tale of my life. I would n.ot 
like to rehearse the tale that Henry revealed to me of his 
escape in an endeavor to get through to our lines after he 



A TKUIi WAR STORY. 47 



left me. He had gone south a short distance and had come 
back to the plantation, not hndino- anv clue as to my where- 
abouts. He had crossed the ri\er. which I ha\e already 
mentioned. He then concluded to go east, in the direction 
of Richmond, for he had learned that it was a i^reat deal 
less distance to travel to i^et throu.^ii to our lines in this was 
than to go west to Knoxxille. Tenn. So he continued to 
travel for several days until he came to a plantation where 
there was no one at home. He said that he succeeded in 
getting- into the plantation house, but he did not tind any- 
thing to eat of any account. He found a ten dollar ImII in 
an old pair of pants that he took possession of. He then 
continued to travel for some distance in the day-time, as well 
as night, and finally came to a small place where there was a 
log hut, and located in this hut was an old man, working at 
shc^emaking. He went to the door of this hut and here he 
found, to his amazement, three rebels in full uniform, who 
invited him in, but he declined to go in. and remained at the 
door of the hut. There was some corn in a pile close to th.c 
door, and he got some of it and put it in the hre that was 
close at hand, and as soon as he stepped inside to hel]) him 
self to the parched corn the enemy tried to get between him 
and the door, but he kept them back with a large club that he 
carried in his hands. Idiese rebels, it seemed, had not 
brought anv arms with them. 

Well, soon Henry left this place and went right back in 
a piece of woods in the same direction from w^hence he had 
come, and just as soon as he could he went straight back to 
the same house and this old man's yard. He had a large 
rooster rmd some chickens running about. He killed th.e 
rooster and gave the old man the ten dollar Confederate bill 
and staved ri^ht there, while the reliels took his back track. 



48 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



Henry started as soon as the old man had stewed this fowl 
for him. 

The only other incident that I remember was g'etting 
throngh the rebel picket lines on the James River, near Rich- 
mond, and his making" a signal of distress to a gunboat and 
their coming ashore and getting him, while on the high 
banks there were lines of rebel pickets that he had succeeded 
in getting throngh. He was taken into our lines at City 
Point, and here he reported that he thought the rebels had 
killed me at the negro shanty. This story my comrade had 
told the captain of my company about and he had sent this 
word to my parents at home. 

I will continue my story. As I have already told you, 
dear reader, mv journey lay in a northwesterly direction 
from Florence prison, and at the negro shanty where we 
were separated it was very much nearer to our lines at Rich- 
mond than it was to Knoxville, Tenn., but while we were 
together we thought it was more difficult than to try to get 
to our lines at Knoxville, but after we were separated Henry 
made up his mind to try the nearest point. So I continued 
on my sad and lonely journey, not knowing what there was 
in store for me. If I had known what was going to befall 
me. it is possible this story would never have been written. 

After T left the river and continued my journey I was 
now nearing the lines of West Virginia and the Blue Ridge 
mountains. I traveled a good many dark nights after I came 
in sight of the Blue Ridge before I came to them, and such 
nights- — laving in swamps and the loneliest places that I 
could find — to avoid being discovered, and eating raw sweet 
potatoes and hard corn. It was very seldom I stopped to ask 
for anything to eat until I was starved into doing so. 

Oh, how often since have I learned to put all my faith 
in God ! I have frequently thought of the passage of scrip- 



A TRUE WAK STORY. 49 



tiire where the Saviour said the foxes liave lioles and the 
birds have nests, but the Son of Man hath not where to lay 
his head. How much I feel at this time that this was truly 
my condition. 

Soon I felt as I neared the mountains, and at this time 
near the lines of West \'iro;inia, that I must have something 
besides the stuiT that I had been subsisting on or I would 
have to give up. I finally came to an old deserted house 
and at this time there was snow on the ground, some two or 
three inches deep. Then imagine a poor starved skeleton, 
weighing less than one hundred pounds, traveling the forests 
and swamps without anything but a pair of drawers and an 
old shirt ; no hat or cap, no shoes, nothing but old rags tied 
around the feet, thinking of home and its warm fireside. 
Well, dear reader, this was my sad plight ! 

As I was saying. I had stopped at an old plantation to 
look around. Soon I saw a man about half a mile away 
toward the mountains, gathering corn from the field, with an 
old gray horse. I made myself known to him. for by this 
time I was getting very weak, not having had anything to 
eat since Henry and I had been separated at the negro 
shanty. If I remember right, there had been at least a week, 
if not better, since I had tasted food. When I got to the old 
man 1 ga\e him to understand that I was a fugitive and was 
on my way to Ash county. West \'irginia. My way and 
manner of talking was not like that of the people here, so the 
old man told me lie reckoned that I was a Yank from Sals- 
bury prison. I)ut he seemed to receixe me so kindlv that T 
told him who I was after he had told me that most of the 
people there were l^nion folks. This he did to win my confi- 
dence. Oh. how sorry I was as soon as I went to the house, 
for the old lady was, I bcliexe. the hardest looking old 
woman, with a Roman nose, and such eves I never saw, as 



50 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



she glared on me when I uttered the word that we were 
rebels. Here there was a son about thirty years old, seated 
in a chair, who was a sad sight, for he appeared to be per- 
fectly helpless and he would repeat just like some parrot the 
same words, "Ves, we are rebels here," and how simple he 
seemed to act. Now the old man told the old lady to give 
me some hoecake if there was any and he at this time showed 
his true colors, for he told me that there was a company be- 
ing raised and I had better wait and eat some hoecake until 
he would return, and I would get a good suit of rebel gray, 
worth thirty or forty dollars a suit, and fifty dollars bounty. 
On saying this he left me, and jumping on the back of the 
old gray horse went off on the run to a small town four miles 
to the west and south of his place. This old man, I think, 
told me that he was eighty years old. As soon as he was 
gone I told the old lady if there w^as any hoecake in the house 
that I must have it. She still insisted that they were rebels 
and had nothing for a Yankee. Then I told her that I would 
ha\e to help mvself, for I was determined to have something 
to eat or die in the attenipt. I had almost become mad on 
account of going so long and having so little to subsist on. 
You see the harvest had gone by and the cold, bleak rains 
and some snow would fall every few days. 

Now, kind reader, comes one more sad incident of n^\ 
experience in life. I had finally started for the cupboard, 
when the old lady told me that she would give me some hoe- 
cake, and tliat I must not try to go until "Pa" came liome. 
and if 1 did she \\()uld ha\'e to stop me. I sat and ate the 
corn cake, which was done \ery soon, and then I started for 
the door. It seemed so strange that every time the old lady 
would say anything the poor crij^pled young" man would re- 
peat most everything his poor old mother would say. When 
T started to g-o to the door the old lady ste]i])ed between me 



A TRUE WAR STORY 51 



and the door and I told her if she did not step aside that I 
would have to use force enough to put her aside, for go I 
must. She had in her hand a fire poker and 1 felt afraid that 
I would have to war with a poor old woman. I told her that 
go I must, and she stepped aside, sending curses after me. 

I must say right here that I had at last reached the Blue 
Ridge mountains, or at least this old man's place was less 
than half a mile from the foot of the mountains. Just before 
I could reach the foot of these mountains I had to cross a 
large, deep stream. I found that I could not get anything 
to cross on, though I looked diligently for a boat, and to 
cross a stream some one hundred rods or so across at such a 
time of year as it was then meant something. Beliexing it 
meant death or capture by the rebels, who would soon be on 
mv trail, I nerved myself for this perilous undertaking. This 
was surely one of the coldest l)aths that I had ever before ex- 
perienced. Xow l)efore me was one of the worst things that 
I had ever encountered in all my life, for if any of the readers 
of this storv ever have l)een near the Blue Ridge moun- 
tains thcv know that unless a person finds a trail to cross the 
mountains with it is almost an impossibility to get o\'er them. 
I knew nothing of any trail and knew from all appearances, 
and from what I could hear, that bloodhounds would soon 
be in pursvnt of me, so I commenced to climb the side of the 
steep, rugged mountains, several hundred feet in height, 
which seemed tn be almost perpendicular. After I had 
climbed for a long way u]) I could hear the IkhuuIs in i)nrsuit 
of me wav below, but I was sure that 1 had climbed where 
no human foot had e\er been before. Well. 1 did not dare tc 
look back. 

This reminds me of the time when two certain peoplt 
wcre commanded to tiee and not to look back. My ])ositio- 
reminded me of those two. You cannot imagine my feeling.- 



52 A TRUE WAR STORY 



when I would get hold of some large bush that grew in the 
crevises of the rocks to have them give way and seem as 
though they would tear loose and let me fall some three or 
four hundred feet below. Now, to tell the whole truth, dear 
reader, it w'as over half a mile or more, and nearly perpen- 
dicular. The hounds could not climb after me, and once 
more I was satisfied that I had escaped another Southern 
hell, or I might say, death. 

But what is death if the soul is in God's care? Well, 
praise God, it does seem that His hand was w'ith me and is 
still with me in this last sketch of my life. 

Still I continued to climb the mountain side until I got 
on top of one of the highest points before I dared to look 
down, and oh, what a sight you never have had, dear reader, 
being several thousand feet above the common level. Look- 
ing down you would be surprised at your enormous height. 
I must say that I believe I had climbed at least two thousand 
feet. At last I had gotten to where it w-as not so steep, yet 
it was still quite a distance from the top of the Blue Ridge 
mountains. After I had traveled some distance further ''' 
finally found it to be quite difficult to make much headway 
on a strange mountain, and that after nigiit, and if, dear 
reader, you have ever been on any mountain you will find it 
more or less uneven and hard to climb, even in the daytime. 

As I still continued to travel along, I soon came to a 
place which seemed impossible for me to get over. It was 
a very deep gorge or a cut, which seemed to be at least 
eighty or ninety feet from top to bottom, and over ten yards 
across. On either side it seemed to be perfectly straight up 
and down. Well, after some thought, I climbed down on 
what seemed to be a tall spruce tree, and after I got down 
in the bottom I found a stream of cold water which seemed 
to be running in the direction from which I had come. Here 



A TRUE WAR STORY 53 



I was right under the sohd rocks and in a cave immediately 
underneath from where I had cHmbed down. I had a curious 
desire, though it was very dark in this cave, to go in and see 
how far it extended under the rocks. I thought how much I 
would have given at this time for a torch. Upon the im- 
pulse of the moment, I started into this cave and wandered 
for several rods. I continued for some distance. I had 
several times stei^ped from side to side of this cave and fell 
on the slippery and slimy stones in the bottom. There were 
manv leaves that would rustle under my feet, and, oh, the 
manv thoughts that would pass through my mind of some 
deep, unknown space that I might step off into, fall on the 
rocks and be killed. And if I should lie down to sleep and 
never awaken again ! Such thoughts would crowd themselves 
upon my mind until I finally concluded to go back and climb 
another tree on the other side of the chasm. As I turned to 
go, to my surprise I heard, further back in the cave, a hoarse 
growl. This seemed to come closer, and if ever anyone 
needed help it seemed I needed it just now, for I could see 
two bright orbs or eves looking right at me, and it seemed 
that every minute that what I had at this time encountered 
would soon bounce upon me. I continued to look right at 
the object until I had backed myself nearly to the month of 
the cave, and I soon got out on the opposite side by climb 
ing another tall evergreen. After having crossed these 
mountains and gotten on the other side I met with a W est 
Virginian. He told me that he had been for many years an 
old trai)per. ami had killed bears in this part of the moun- 
tains that weighed fullv fcjur hundred ])Ounds. X'ow, it might 
be if I had stayed in tliat cave that this tale would never 
ha\e lieen written. 

I continued to travel until I came to a large farm on thr 
top of this mountain, a farm of over one hundred acres, and 



54 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



all cleared. It seemed so funny to find a large farm away on 
top of such a large and high mountain. I went up to the 
house and found it to be very large and black in color, which 
had a large, old-fashioned, fire-place, made of stone and 
sticks. There was but one door and one window, but it was 
a large house. The roof ran \'ery low on the north side, and 
on the south side was the door and window. I went to this 
door and looked in the window and saw- three or four pairs 
of cavalry boots, with spurs attached to them, sitting by the 
fire-place on the hearth. I made up my mind that it was 
best not to disturb these folks, for I did not like the looks of 
those boots and spurs. I went around the house and found 
on the north side a mess of shelves and on them quite a 
number of old-fashioned crocks all full of nice sweet milk. I 
drank a sup of it and then went on and looked for a moun 
tain trail that I knew must lead down ofi: this mountain 
somewdiere. Soon 1 found it and followed it until I arrived 
in the \illage below. I went but a verv short distance be- 
fore I came to a log house, and found myself so hungry and 
faint that I had to call on the occupants of this house for a 
bite to eat. This night's tra\'el had been well spent in getting 
over the mountains thus far. I went up to the door rather 
tremblingly and knocked for admittance, wdien a kind old 
man came to the door. I told him what I desired and he in- 
vited me into his house. This was about two o'clock in the 
morning. This jiroxed to l)e one more hard spent night of 
travel. The wdiole family, composed of a very kind wife and 
a daughter, g'ot up and in a very short time had a good 
breakfast. We all sat down and ate. It was about half past 
three o'clock. T told these people that I wished to go as 
soon as possible. I told them in as few words as possible 
tiow I had suffered and about the perilous times that I had 
experienced. He now told me that he had hunted in the 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 55 



nKuintains that I had just crossed and told about killing 
bears that weighed over four hundred pounds. Now when 
we all had eaten, I started again on my journey, and I felt 
anxious to get away, for I had great encouragement that T 
would soon get to our lines. As we parted, after so short a 
stay, the kind old lady and her daughter shook hands with 
me and bade me God speed. The kind old gentleman went 
with me some distance from their place to direct me to the 
line of Tennessee. Now this kind old man told me to keep 
in line with the Blue Ridge mountains and to keep them to' 
mv left and follow the Chestnut Ridge, along in range with, 
the Blue Ridge. He told me to l)e sure and not leave this 
Ridge, and it would bring me to what was called the Iron and 
Doe mountain. This mountain I would have to cross in 
order to get into our lines in Tennessee. So after a kind 
greeting and a wish for God's speed he parted with me. 

I have often wished that I could have kept a diary of the 
names of the people who had befriended me on my journey. 
How many times have I thought of God's hand being in my 
tra\els. 

1 was instructed to be sure and keep in range of the 
mountains — that is, the Blue Ridge — and I would be sure to 
go all right. As 1 have said l)efore, I had no intention of do- 
ing anv traxcling in the daytime. Thus far it had all been 
done nights, but after the old man left me and I had got 
on the Chestnut Kidge 1 found some of the largest chest- 
nuts that I e\-er saw in m\- life. So I thought that I would 
pick u]) some of them and carr\- them alttng with me, and as 
1 was doing so 1 heard a man down in the \alley calling- 
hogs, and it seemed as th<mgh he \\as looking in the direc- 
tion 1 was in. lie seemed to be armeil with a gtui. so I got 
on the other side of the ridge and hurried along for some 
distance, when I again stopi)ed where the nuts seemed to be 



56 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



very thick, when I looked up to find the object of my pur- 
suit holding his gun on me and not over thirty rods away. 
This was the first time that I had been caught in so close a 
place. 

I had now got some fi\e or six hundred miles from 
Florence prison. As soon as I saw the rebel I thought T 
would run. Then I started to walk very fast, and it seemed 
that he would soon shoot me, judging- from the way he 
acted. So I turned and spoke to him, and he told me that he 
reckoned he would have shot me if I had not stopped. We 
sat on an old log and talked for a long time, and I must say 
that this was the first tiiue in my life that I ever talked 
politics, but it seemed as though I never had such power o' 
speech before, for I told this rebel plainly that the South had 
seceded and rebelled from the best government on earth, and 
if Jeff Davis was hung that the war would close. The rebel 
would say the same al30ut our martyred Lincoln, and at 
last this rebel home guard, or guerilla, told me that I would 
have to go with him. This seemed hard after having suf 
fered what I had to get away from those rebel hell pens t( 
be taken back. It discouraged me so much that I con 
eluded to die rather than go where he would turn me over 
to anv home guards, for I knew it meant almost certain 
death to any Yankee to be retaken after trying to get awa; 
from prison. Oh, how I plead for him to let me g^o, anr' 
told him no one would ever know except God if he did. T 
plead as I never plead before in all my life, and shed foun- 
tains of tears, but still it seemed all in vain. The rebel told 
me that he would have to take me to a home guard about 
four miles distant, and he ordered me to get up and go with 
him. Now when I saw that my entreaties would not prevail, 
I concluded that I would get away from him some way or die 
in the attempt. So I pretended to be very lame and could 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 57 



hardly go, and as we traveled along told him that 1 would 
still live in hopes of getting through to our lines and to 
friends. He allowed me to walk a little in his rear, and still 
sobbing and pleading for him to let me go. I had my mind 
made up to get his gun out of his left hand as he seemed to 
be trailing it along and to brain him and get away and leave 
his carcass on the Chestnut Ridge to feed the fowls, or to be 
found by some other home guards. Now, as I was contem- 
plating this and still pleading for him to let me go. having 
already attempted to reach his gun, I spoke of my poor old 
mother, who was waiting at her sad fireside, after losing one 
of her boys in the Battle of the Wilderness, and whose bone? 
were lying in the Alexandria cemetery, and who died before 
he was sixteen years old. When I spoke of this and my poor 
suffering mother at home it seemed to break him up and he 
turned around just as I was about to make the final attempt 
to snatch his gun. He looked very pale, and, sobbing, told 
me that he had a good mother once who used to prav for her 
wayward b,oy. but she was gone now. He said : "If you will 
promise not to iell who you are or where you came from we 
will go down to that house in the \alley and get something 
to eat and you can go," and then it was that mv heart wa> 
lifted, for 1 could .^ce that he meant what he said. Still 1 
continued to be very careful not to trust him too far. Well, 
we went to the house and found two nice looking women 
there, one weaving the sheep's gray cloth, and thev asked 
me very kindly where 1 came from. 1 told them that T was 
only a refugee. That was all my guide allowed me to tell. 
Now the food that was set on the table for me to eat was 
something immense. The good hostess sat on the table one 
full old-fashioned t^allon crock of milk and a nice dish of 
butter, a bowl of nice ai)ple sauce, a plate of biscuits and a 
loaf of corn bread. Oh. how. 1 thought of mv own home as 



58 A TRUE WAR STORY 



I sat eating. It seemed that 1 never would get through. Thev 
all sat and gazed at me while I ate. and after eating nearly all 
that there was on the tahle — at least nearly a whole gallon 
of milk, and most all that I have mentioned — the rebel came 
to me and placed his hand on my shoulder and told me that 
he reckoned I had better stop eating if I did not want to 
kill myself. The two ladies of the house looked sadly after 
me when I started off. and as soon as we got out of the house 
the rebel told me to keep straight east and that I need not 
be afraid to stop anywhere. T concluded that he wanted 
some one else to take me. but did not go a mile before turn- 
ing to the northwest, the same direction I had tra\e!ed all 
the way when the stars were my only guide. 

Henry and I had found on an old southern map where 
Knoxville. Tenn., lay from Florence prison. I had not gone 
over half a mile when I began to get sick, and I vomited all 
that I had eaten. It seemed as though it would kill me. eat 
ing so much milk and apple sauce. It caused gas in my 
poor, weak stomach. 

It came on foul, cold and rainy weather and traveling 
without the guide of the stars was very difficult. I traveled 
for several nights and parts of days, to find myself back to 
the verv house that I had left, and to my joy found them 
good Union folks. The women received me kindly and con- 
cealed me in the loft of the small barn. The next night 
found me again on mv way. 

It seemed as though I had traveled in the last preceding 
days, and had made no headway, over seventy-five miles. I 
got started again before night and came to where there was 
a large chestnut orchard, of over ten acres, and the limbs of 
the trees grew close to the ground. In this orchard there 
was a large drove of hogs fatting on the nuts that they got 
to eat, and rioht to the left of this was a large field of over 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 5^ 



one hundred acres of pasture and a vast herd of cattle was 
feedino- in this field. Down to the north of the field I spoke 
of. in which the hog-s were, was a large brick house and just 
south of the house stood several graycoats looking- at me. 
The cattle were following- me while I crossed this large field 
and their bellowing made me very nervous. 

Well, after I had traveled again for nearly three nig-hts 
and days, in cloudy weather, I found myself crossing thi.s 
same field, in the same place, going in the same direction. 
Xow this kind of traveling nearly broke my heart. I saw 
the hogs, to make sure, and the chestnut orchard and the 
brick house. Oh, how I cried to see what a waste of time T 
had made. I came to the conclusion that I would not travel 
any more unless I had settled weather. This event caused 
me to shed bitter tears once more, and to recall this to my 
memory makes me feel extremely sad. but I do thank God 
from the depth of my heart that I have learned to trust Him 
under every circumstance, and when I look back over these 
scenes and memories of the past I feel to praise God for pre- 
serving my unprofitable life. 

Well, I crossed this field again, determined to lav by 
until clear weather, and when night sat in the stars and moon 
shone, which helped me along until in a few davs I came to 
the Iron and Doe mountain. T had traxeled for several days 
wuh nothing to eat but hard corn, and as another day began 
to dawn I came to a barn back in the field from the house 
that seemed to l)e near Iron mountain. I staved here, 
unending to go again in the evening. 1 sriw a boy about 
ten years old come near the barn to get an old gray horse. 
I hen I saw a middle aged lady go with a cart to milk. Oh, 
how the pangs of hunger again bothered me. Well late in 
the afternoon, about four or five o'clock, I saw no one but 
the little boy and a girl about fifteen years old. Thcv seemed 



60 A TRUE WAR STORY 



to be afraid of me, and well they might be, for I had long, 
ttnciit hair of nearly half a year's growth, and was a sad 
looking sight. These good children gave me a dish of bread 
and milk to stay my poor, weak stomach nntil their mother 
came hone, and very soon I learned that this woman's 
husband was in the Union army at Knoxville. Tennessee. I 
stayed here concealed in the corn husks for these days, and 
it was quite bad weather, but how many hours I sat in the 
housf and told them of the suffering of prisoners in southern 
prisons. 

Now the time had come for me to again be on my 
journey. WHien I got ready to go it seemed hard to part 
with such kind friends who had done so much for me, and 
something that I felt I would never be able to repay in this 
world, but I bid them a kind farewell. This good lady told 
me to follow along the mountains vmtil I came to the 
mountain trail and then I was to follow this across the 
mountain. She told me T would come to the trail in about 
four miles from her place. Then after I had crossed the Iron 
and Doe mountain it would take me into, I think, Johnson 
county, Tennessee. Well after leaving this place I thought 
that I had crossed one mountain on my own hook and could 
do so again. So after going about two miles came to the 
conclusion that I could turn to the right and climb up the 
mountain until I struck trail, and did so. I climbed one 
range after another, as T thought, when it began to get 
cloudy, and I well remember that the woman told me it was 
fourteen miles across this mountain. Now when the fowls 
were crowing for daybreak what was my surprise to find 
myself back to the very house that I had just left, and had 
to go clear up to the door before I could be convinced that 
it was the place I had left that evening. I did not want them 
to know that I did not follow their directions. So I just 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 61 



Started off as fast as my poor weary legs could carry me, and 
before day had the satisfaction of knowing that I had struck 
the mountain trail. I will say right here that my kind friend 
told me to be sure to pass the third house before attempting 
to stop, and then I would find good Union people. As soon 
as I got to this mountain trail it commenced to snow and 
blow very hard, and oh, how I suft'ered. I am not able to 
describe here what I experienced and my tongue seems too 
short to tell it, but, dear reader, just imagine yourself in my 
stead, surrounded by rebels on every side, and in a strange 
country, and clad with an old w^oolen shirt nearly in tatters 
and your drawers with one leg' gone to the knee, and you 
can form some idea of what I had to put up with in this cold 
storm, and a mere walking skeleton at that. I had an 
average weekly fare of corn hoecake and bacon, and that not 
averaging once a week. 

Well, I had been told when I got bv the third house that 
it would be safe to stop. The storm was so severe that I 
made a mistake and stopped at the third house, and as fate 
would ha\e it this was the very one that 1 should have 
shunned. Here I found a rebel captain from the Eleventh 
Virginia Cavalry, home on a furlough, and when I knocked 
and he let me in it must have been three or four o'clock \v 
the morning. I told him I had been directed there by a friend 
and he seemed to be all right, and placed a feather bed on the 
hearth of an old-fashioned fireplace, or close to it, and it was 
not many minutes before I was fast asleep, and really I 
imagined that 1 was at home on one of ni}' own m< other's 
cots, but what was my surprise when I awakened to find my- 
self in the hands of a rebel captain, in full rebel uniform, with 
bars on his collar. Trulx- I felt surjjrised. llis wife told me 
as soon as 1 arose that 1 ought to have gone to the next 
house and there would ha\e f(Tund her own folks, who were 



<)2 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



good Union people. Her husband, the old captain, tried to 
stop her talk, but it seemed of no avail. She told him if he 
did not let me go that she would go home. He told me 
to sit and eat some hoecake and bacon, for he was going to 
turn me over to the home guards. I felt so bad to think thai 
I was ag'ain in the hands of my enemy. I told him that 
I could not eat, but he commanded \'ery fiercely for me to 
come, and the look of his wife told me that he needed pet- 
ting. So I went and ate my supper — not my supper, but din- 
ner, I might choose to call it — but could not eat much, and 
drank a little corn coffee, and how many tears and such 
pleading, both on my part and the part of his kind wife, to 
let me g"o ! At last when pleading ceased and his wife told 
him that if he did not let me go that she would g'o home and 
there remain, with many bitter curses on his lips he started 
off, with me tagging along after him, down again toward 
the foot of the mountain. I looked over his side arms and 
it occurred to me that he had no gun of any kind, nothing 
but a sword to guard me. So I lagged behind, pretending 
that I could hardly walk, and I took a good look at his long 
legs, for he was over six feet tall, and then I started up the 
side of the mountain with the reliel in full i)ursuit. I still 
continued to run the best I could up among the rocks and 
brush that grew thick on this mountain side. Still the 
rebel continued to pursue me for some time, when finally he 
went back. 

Well I kei)t on for some length of time, until it had gotten 
to be nearly night. I finally came to the mountain trail that 
I had been on when I stopped at the rebel captain's place. 
I had in all of this day's rambles traveled in no direct line, 
but had put in a good part of the day. 

I had not gone far before I came to a log cabin, and here 
found two women. Tt had snowed two or three inches the 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 63 

night before, and durino- the day the sun had come out warm, 
and in the woods a man could be trackech It seems that the 
rebel captain had gone back and got help to pursue my trail, 
and when I stopped at the log cal)in and asked for something 
to eat they gave me a lunch and told me that the captain's 
place was not more than six or se\'en miles from where T 
was, and they told me that I had better go to a barn which 
was back in the lot just a short distance from the house and 
conceal myself in a large quantity of straw that was in the 
barn. This barn was built of logs. So I went and crawled 
down in the northeast corner, clear down to the bottom. 
Now 1 had heard of crawling into a hole and drawing the 
hole in after you, so I tried to fill the hole uj) after me the 
best I could, and none too soon either, before there came 
three mounted men, one the captain. They tried to make 
these two women tell where I had gone. These women had 
husbands in our army at Knoxville, Tennessee, and I think 
these Union women would have died before they would have 
revealed mv wherealnnits. Soon these men came to the 
barn, looked all through it, and it seemed as though they 
would dig in the corner where I was and find me, but thev 
went awav without finding me, and again tried td tind out for 
certain from these women whether they had seen mc, for 
they nad tracked me through the timber to the clearing, but 
when they came to the clearing the snow was gone. These 
rebels soon went back in the direction that I had come, and 
I went to the house and again started on my way, it now be- 
ing dark, to see if I could not succeed in getting across this 
mountain. It did seem as though this was the hardest part 
of my journev, for after traxeling ;dl night until ncarl\- morn- 
ing. T lost a good share of the time from the mountain trail. 
W hat was mv surprise to find myself again in the hands of 
a rebel guerilla. I had come around in front of a newly con- 



64 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



structed log building, and just as I did so I saw a man in full 
rebel uniform seated on an old box mending a pair of boots. 
He perceived what a plight I was in for dress, and as he heard 
me talk he began to ask me a good many questions in regard 
to where I was from, and he told me about his being in the 
rebel army and deserting, and about his parents being good 
Union people. After he had talked for some time I really 
thought he was a good Union man, and told him of my 
escape from prison. Then I told him where I was from, and 
that my birth place was in Erie county, Pennsylvania. After 
we had talked some little time he wanted to know if I ever 
worked at shoemaking. I told him that I had, and that my 
father worked at the trade as long as I could remember. 
So he had me mend up his boots, which I did, thinking 
that his wife would soon be home and get something to 
eat. Now this was one of the worst sights for poverty that 
I had seen in all my travels, for it did not seem as though 
this man had five pounds of corn meal in this newly built hut. 
In one end there was a very rudely constructed fireplace, 
and I failed to find anything inside of the place to answer 
for a bed, except some old rags and a little straw in one 
corner. The day was nearly half gone when I had finished 
mending his boots, and he seemed to be very well pleased, 
when I told him that it did not seem as though his wife 
would be back very soon, of whom he had spoken. He had 
told me that as soon as she came she would get something 
for us to eat, but I still insisted on going. So I started to go, 
and just as soon as I made away he reached behind the door 
and got out a double-barreled shot gun and brought it to 
bear on me. He told me to stop or he would have to shoot. 
I thought how soon my friend had turned to a foe. I found 
that I was again in the hands of an enemy. As soon as I 
went back to him he called verv loudly for his mother to 



A TRUE WAR STORY. ^5 



come Up to his place. It seemed that his folks lived about 
a hundred yards or more away, just across the woods. Soon 
his poor old mother came running up to the house and asked 
him what was the matter. He wanted her to stay with the 
children while he went away with me. Then she looked at 
me and wanted to know where he was going-. He told her 
that I was a Yankee, right from Pennsylvania and that he 
was obliged to take me and turn me over to the home guards. 
He would shoot or hang me without any trial whatever. 
Then slie told him that he had deserted from the Confederate 
army himself and would be just as liable to arrest as I was, 
but he didn't seem to care how much she talked to him. Oh. 
so selfish was he to accomplish his end! He wanted his 
mother to stay with the two children while he went away 
with me. Then his mother wanted to know who I was and I 
told her all I had done for her son, and how I had waited 
after mending his boots, and how he was inclined to want to 
shoot me for the kind act I had shown him. "Well, mother," 
he said, "will you stay here with the children until I come 
back?" "No sir, I will not do it, nor will I ever do anvthine 
for you if you do not let this poor starving- creature o-q " 
she said. "No, mother, I could not do it, but if you will take 
the children home with you I will go down and let father see 
my prisoner, so come along," and he made me walk right in 
front of his double-barreled shot gun, and was very careful 
t(^ tell me if 1 undertook to run that lie would have to shoot 
nic. In this way we went to a corn field, about a half mile 
from his father's place, and here we found about eight or ten 
women and men Inisking corn. Advancing up to his father 
this "William," as they called him, said: "Father, here is a 
real Yankee, right from Pennsylvania." "What part of 
Pennsylvania arc you from?" asked the father. I told him 
from I^rie county. "Well," he said, "mv bov here was born 



66 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



in that state, in Crawford county. Well, how do you do? I 
am very glad to see you. \Villiam, what have you got that 
gun for?" "Why, father, don't you know that I took a hard 
oath to ser\-e my country?" "Yes, you took an oath, my 
poor boy, but deserted the Southern ser\-ice, knowing that 
your poor father was a Northern Union man. Yes. yes, 
you took a wonderful oath, but, William, you must let this 
man go." All the talk the poor old man could say to his 
son was of no avail, and now his kind brother plead with 
him. This boy was onlv seventeen years old. He had lost 
his right arm above the elbow. Then came, last of all, his 
sisters, and if ever I ha\e heard pleading for one's life it 
seemed that these poor souls did it. It seemed that all this 
man's aim was to try his firearms on me, for after a long 
talk ^^•^th his voung brother and sisters, the brother came to 
me and told me that the only way that William would release 
me was for me to start off a little distance and then run. He 
said William would probably shoot at me and that he was 
afraid it would mean death to me \ery soon. The brother 
and his two sisters came back shortly, and the former told 
me what he had concluded to do. He allowed that he would 
just get ofT a short distance and then I must get up and run. 
Then William W(Tuld turn and shoot at me, and I must run 
all the faster. He started and walked off about ten rods and 
I saw that he did not intend to go any further. So I arose ast 
quickly as possible from a shock of corn I had been husking 
and started for a \'ery steep bluff which was almost straight 
down, and it did seem as though I fairly tlew down this hill 
so rapid was mv flight. Dear reader, if you was ne\'er com- 
pelled to flee from a foe with a gun and then to be shot at. 
you can imagine the plight I was in. Now I want to say 
right here that in eternity I expect to meet this same man, 
and T don't want him to come up 1)efore me and say: "You 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



wrote a tale, away l^ack there, against me that you scattered 
broadcast w liich was untrue." 

Now if L ne\cr complete this tale of my sad life, or if 1 
do. I iust ask ( iod to direct my pen that I migdit not pur 
poselv insert one word that is not true, to the best of my 
knowledge. I do praise God from the depth of my heart 
that mv faith is in Him. 

As I was sa\'ing'. I ran down this steep blufl', and just 
before I reached the foot of it there came the discharge of 
nn' ])ursuer's gun. and a rain of buckshot Hew all around me. 
I was very thankful that they did not hit mc. William, as 
they called hiiu, told me that he just fired at me so as to 
clear himself from tlie hands of the rebels. It did seem as 
though he should have gi\en me some food before putting 
me up for a target. His decei\ing- me while fixing his foot- 
wear seems to con\ince me all the more that he meant to do 
me harm. After firing the shot gun at me he buried his 
brother's side arms, which consisted of a large horse pistol, 
which he carried with him. After firing two shots from the 
shotgun, he still continued to follow me for at least a mile 
and a half, until I hid in a thick foliage of laurel brush. He 
came within twent\- vards of my concealment, calling for me 
to show up and it would l)e all right. 1 could not lielieve 
him, for I had lost all confidence in him. 

Now that night about nine o'clock 1 had to pass this 
same man's house. I found him singing and rocking his 
little "Jerf" — his boy whom he told me he had named after 
Jefferson Davis. Oh. how the pang;s of hunger conmienced 
to tell on me at this time ! 

Right liere T wcnild like to say that during the con\er- 
sation I had with the younger Ijrother. who had lost one of 
his arms, he told me how he had been taken prisoner near 
]')ig Round Toji at Gettysburg. Pennsylvania, and of being 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



in the care of men belonging to the Fifth Corps, and how 
well he had been cared for. tie told me that his arm was 
amputated at this place. 

As I was saying, the traitor was singing and rocking his 
little "Jef¥"' as I passed by his place, i remember that he 
told me about his brother living about a mile ahead on the 
mountain trail. So when I came there I thought I would 
stop and let myself be known, but I did not do so. I went 
to a cool spring house near by and found there some nice 
milk and a piece of corn bread which I was very thankful to 
take possession of. 

After this I started along, and instead of keeping the 
mountain trail I took a cow trail that led far up on the 
mountain. It seemed that I never, in all of my journey, 
traveled harder to reach our lines or to get into the state of 
Tennessee than I did this night. 

After traveling all night, until it broke day, I found my- 
self on one of the highest pinnacles of this mountain, and, as 
I supposed, was looking down into Tennessee, for at a dis- 
tance I could see a log house, so in this direction I made my 
course. After some tra\eling I came to the house, and what 
was my surprise to find myself back to the \'ery house that T 
had stopped at and drank the milk. This place proved to 
belong to the father-in-law of the man who had done the 
shooting at me the day before. So I thought I could do no 
better than to stop, for at this time I had become very 
hungry. So I went in, and as I was seated at the table talk- 
ing and telling of what had happened to me the day before, 
we heard the discharge of a gun several times, and these 
good people told me that the man who had betrayed me told 
them that he had wounded me, and intended to capture me 
the next day, and had started very early that morning to 
complete his work. While still eating, we could hear the 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 69 

discharge of his gun every Httle while. It made these people 
laugh to know that I was sitting at their table while my 
pursuer was on those high bluffs, pretending to be hunting 
to death that runaway Yankee. 

Now, after I had finished eating I started once more to 
follow the mountain trail, as far as I dared to, and then laid 
by until night set in, for I had not traveled very much by 
day. 

After bidding these kind friends good bye I started, 
hoping to get across these mountains without any very 
serious trouble. I had got where the mountain began to 
descend, when I began to have hopes that I would soon ar- 
rive where I could be safe in our lines. 

Oh, how I longed to be at my own father's fireside! 
These thoughts would, in my state of mind, cheer me up. 
After laying by until night set in I again started dowm this 
mountain side. The distance, I think I had been told, down 
this rugged Iron and Doe mountain was about eight miles. 
About one or two o'clock I found myself at the foot of the 
mountain and about a mile from it. I came to quite a re- 
spectable looking farm house and barn. Here I stopped and 
was told that I was now within the lines of Tennessee. This 
caused me to believe that my troubles were nearly at an end. 
But, alas ! they were not. 

I will soon tell vou, dear reader, what occurred to me 
when I went to this house. 1diey received me \ery kindly 
and after eating something they had me go to the barn and 
there remain until about noon. When the man wanted to 
know if I did not want to go to a corn husking bee, I told 
him that 1 did not dare to. He insisted on it so hard and my 
thinking that getting into Tennessee meant I was practically 
into our lines, or at least into a Union state, I made myself 
quite free, after some persuasion, to go with him. .\s soon 



70 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



as we arrixed at the place, about t\\o miles away, w"e found a 
great company of people there. They seemed to come and 
consult with mv friend a ^'ood deal, and when stipper was 
annonnced 1 told my friend that I mnst lea\e, for there were 
at least two rebels there who were home from the Sonthern 
army, and who seemed to be \-ery inqiiisiti\e as to wdiere I 
had come from. So I started back to my friend's place and 
he stayed to see what he conld learn in regard to what they 
intended to do. He came home abont seven o'clock and 
came to the l)arn and called to me, but I was concealed in the 
straw in the barn loft and did not answer, for the reason that 
he told me not to reply to any one nntil I was sure that it 
was him. As soon as I knew it was him I came down and he 
told me that he had overheard the two rebels talking to- 
gether and that they were coming to his place to capture me. 
He had a small Innch for me and I foimd to my sorro\\' tliat 
my troubles were not ended. 

From this place I traveled all that night and so on until 
some days had passed, when I came at last to a northern 
range of the mountains. Now in Tennessee there are a great 
many ranges of mountains, one range after another. \\'ell, I 
stopped at this man's place and foimd a very warm friend 
and a good whole-souled Union man. 

If I have not forgotten, it was about three days from the 
time I left the barn, of which I ha\e spoken. The man's 
name was John Robertson, and it appeared that he had a 
niece whom he told me he desired to send !iome across the 
mountains, over into what is called Carter county. Tennes- 
see. Bevond Carter lav Knoxville. which T had been nearly 
forty days trying to reach. In the morning, in my sad con- 
dition of dress, I started across this mountain, with the 
young lady to guide me. (^n the way we sang national 
songs, and for about nine miles we spent the time very 



A TRUE WAR STORY, 71 



pleasantly. Lon,o- before ni^ht we came to the setllcmcnt on 
the other side of the mountain. This place is now called Car- 
ter county, Tennessee. Here at the first place we came to 
were Anderson's two or three men in blue clothes. This 
youno- ladv had not ex]:>lained that there were ei^'hteen of 
our soldiers cut otT from our army at Knoxyille. and when 
I saw them standing in front of the house I was about to 
dee to the mountains again, but the young lady just insisted 
that thev were Union soldiers. So I went up to the house 
and was yery kindly receiyed, and here I must say I had one 
of the greatest experiences that I eyer had in all my life. 
The next day after my arriyal the Anderson people thought 
they wduld clean me uj) somewhat. So they had me take ofY 
my old drawers and shirt and placed on me some old twilled 
])ants and a shirt, and T was set to work building a fire to 
clean and scald the old clothes that I had taken ofi". I say 
clothes — nothiuL'- Init a part of a pair of drawers and a shirt 
that had seen more than six months' seryice. Then talk of 
pleasure in a soldier's life ! 

When T had just fairly got the water and the fire agoing 
there came u]) the main road, just a few rods away, the 
sound of many horsemen and the clatter of hoofs and a 
motion from the house for me to flee in the direction of the 
mountains. T started, not knowing whether to eyer come 
back or not. 1 ran about a mile along the foot of the moun- 
tains, when I came to a man by the name of Sampson Rob- 
ertson. I found that he was one of our men, but had been 
conscripted into the rebel service. He never went into the 
Southern army, but skulked for a living among his friends. 
He told me for the lirst time that this dash of rebels num- 
bered o\er one hundred men. and that they had come over 
the moimtain from the west, from Sulliyan county, to cap- 
ture our eighteen Union scouts, and that they intended to 



72 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



intercept them, for these rebels had already robbed the poor 
people of everything, even their bedding and household 
goods, and had killed an old man some sixty-two years old 
and burned the grist mill. If ever I wanted to help a handful 
of our poor soldiers, cut ofT from our army, it was now. So 
I went along to where I fell in with about seventeen of our 
men and boys, all told, and nine of the very best of these men 
allowed me to go along with them upon a bluff overlooking 
a run called Stony Creek, traveling down through the valley. 
This run was very deep and at least sixty yards across, and 
there was a small foot bridge, made of hewn timber, on small 
abuttments. Just opposite this foot bridge there was a very 
large bluff or mountain, some three hundred feet high, and 
on this high elevated ridge these nine scouts had located 
themselves. I had the honor of being one to help in the 
little l)attle that was soon to come off. I had one of the old 
hero's muskets. Now we could see the Johnnies coming 
They had divided their force of one hundred men and were 
advancing right up to this foot bridge and began to cross it. 
when our boys opened fire on them from five shooting car- 
bines. They told me to load the old musket well with buck- 
shot and let them have it. Well, to tell the truth, I took too 
much powder from an old powder horn, for I put in nearly a 
handful, and also about a handful of buckshot. When this 
gun did go it would kick right smart, I reckoned, but still 
kept on loading and firing it, to the merriment of the other 
boys. But, oh, such fun ! In a short time the rebels turned 
back and went away faster than they came. The Union 
boys, some of them, went on the mountain trail as the rebels 
were on their way back, and while they were leading or rid- 
ing their horse the Union boys opened fire on them and 
nearlv stampeded the whole force. There were only six or 
seven of our bovs. We succeeded in escaping while they 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 73 

were trying to capture us. We had it from their own men 
that there were seven, I think, wounded and two killed. If 
I am not mistaken, this is what the rebels reported. They 
could not reach us from where they were. 

Now after this great share in the battle I went back to 
the place that I had left, and stayed with a woman by the 
name of Urie Low. At this place I stayed for some four or 
five days. I made wdiile here, I think, three pairs of shoes 
out of almost raw hide, working the hide just long enough to 
get the hair ofT and left them tan color. 

So ends my first introduction into Carter county, Ten- 
nessee. 

After this I stayed at Mrs. Low's place for some time. 
Then I went to Lieutenant Housley's, one of our men, and a 
commander among the Union boys. I went to Housley's 
place to stay, and would go to a mountain cave to sleep 
nights, for it was very dangerous to stay at the dwellings 
any more. 

There was one thing that happened soon after I went 
over to Lieutenant Housley's place. I was requested to stay 
.at a place called Sampson Robertson's. All the boys had 
gone to the cave and I stayed at the house a short time to 
finish a pair of shoes for one of Mr. Robertson's daughters. 
I had just got seated near the fireplace and was telling some 
of the exciting times I had in making my escape. Time 
passed along very pleasantly, when there came a stern com- 
mand from the door for the women to clear away from the 
hearth of the fireplace so they could end that Yankee talk. 
If ever I felt afraid in all my life I did just new, and if I ever 
needed help it was now. The good woman had me sit clear 
down on the hearth, and if ever I felt myself under petticoat 
government or jjrotectlon it was now. Here I sat while the 
dausfhter of Air. Robertson entertained these two rebels and 



74 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



gave them apple-jack, or what was sometimes called apple 
brandy. The \Yomen got a large amount of walnuts and but- 
ternuts for them to crack, and for over two long hours I sat 
on the hearth and took the cursing of those two rebels. T 
can tell you if I e\'er had to be placed in the same position 
again I would say let me stand before the belching cannon 
and the rattle of small arms rather than to be cooped up in a 
log hut on the stone hearth surrounded by the breastworks 
of bra\'e women ! 

How often ha\'e I thought of this place in mv life and 
what a delicate position it was. Well, it seemed as though 
the time had passed the slowest it e\er did in all my life. 
Wdhle these two rebels began to be fired up with drink they 
Ijegan to make threats aljout what they would soon do to 
the Yankee, and I began to whisper to the women to let me 
slip out and make one dash by those two blood thirsty 
rebels. There was but one door and they told me to sit \ery 
quiet. Soon the \\ife of Lieutenant Housley's father-in-law. 
slipped by those two rebels and went over a mile and a half 
to the cave where the Union boys were staying, and \ery 
soon there came dashing down from the mountain ca\'e the 
brave Lieutenant Housley and the husliand of this l;)ra\'e and 
heroic wouian. She had to climb o\er one hundred and Uitx 
feet, V here the edges of rocks were not more than three fee^ 
in width, and on a \ery dark night at that. 

( )nce more I had great reason tt) thank God and these 
kind ladies for sa\ing me from blood thirstv \'illains. 

Tn about an Ikuu" there was a stern command for those 
rebels to surrender, and thev arose to their feet and ran. but 
soon the lieutenant stopped them with a shot or two. wound- 
ing one of them in the arm. The two Union men made the 
two rebels take the oath of allegiance to our go\ernment 
and then thev were allowed to o'O. 



r 



■~i> 



J^ 










A TRUE WAR STORY. 7T 



Now, just as soon as I found that our boys had arrived 
it made me glad to know that I was able to get out of such 
a cramped position. Before this I never had witnessed such 
a close place, let alone being in it. I can say that I was 
very thankful for my deliverance froni these drunken rebels. 

After they were disposed of the lieutenant told me that 
I had better go to the cave with them, and after this I was 
careful when night came on to find my way to where I was 
more safe than at the houses in this neighborhood. 

I would like to tell you about the cave we had to stay 
in. I must say it was a most wonderful sight. The trail 
commenced at the foot of the bluff, or mountain, and wound 
its way up the side for nearly three-fourths of a mile and fol- 
lowed along the west side of a large range of mountains. 
Very close, or right under this trail, there was a large cat- 
aract, and for over one hundred and fifty feet above this 
cataract was the mouth of the cave, concealed by a large 
amount of foliage, such as laurel and sage bush. It would be 
almost impossible for a stranger to find this cave. After 
passing into this cave it was very beautiful, for far up 
through the crevises of the rocks came the light of the sun. 
This cave was over one hundred feet in length, and it seemed 
to be of different widths, varying from thirty to forty feet. 
On either side were rude couches where our poor boys 
caught their short naps, and in the middle, on the rock 
bottom, there was a warm fire, which was perfectly con- 
cealed from observation below, and the smoke went a long 
wavs up among the mountain's high cliffs. This reminds me 
of hiding in the cliffs of the rocks. 

Oh, I am so thankful that I have learned to hide in the 
Cliffs of the Rock of our salvation through Jesus Christ! 

Weil, now, since I have explained the cave, I must telT 
you that my stay in Carter county must have an end. So the 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



report came that the rebel army had left Sullivan Station. 
Thi.^ was on the railroad. They had retreated way beyond 
the lead mines and salt works. The time had come for us — 
myself and all of these Union boys — to leave for Knox\'ille. 
so \\-e all started in the direction of the mountain trail. The 
night beiore we started the people all met at the house of 
one of tne Union boys, and it was as sad a parting as I ever 
want to witness in m\- misspent life. I saw here mothers, 
fathers and sisters parting with each other, probably never 
to meet again. Oh. such a sad sight ! Finally my time came 
to bid farewell to friends. It seemed in so short a time, only 
about three weeks. I had gained such an attachment with 
these people that it seemed as though I was parting with 
near and dear friends of longer acquaintance. AA'hen I came 
to Lieutenant Houslev's family it seemed T had to pass them 
bv, for I had been at their table and had been treated verv 
well by them. This is an incident that I will speak of later. 
Now wiien I came to bid Angeline, th.e daug'hter of Lieu- 
tenant Housley. good bye I could not do so without showing 
more than common feeling, for without thought I had 
learned to have a great deal of affection for this girl. When 
we left all these good people we did not think w'e would ever 
return — at least T ne^■er thought that I would see any of 
them again in this world of sin. 

We started for the mountain and as soon as we got to it 
it was said the lieutenant wanted two men to volunteer to g'c 
across the mountain, aliout nine miles, and find out for sure 
if the rel)el armv had gone from Sulli\an Station, I stepped 
forward with a voung fellow by the name of Rogen Ander 
son. The lieutenant told us wdiere we would find one of our 
spies over the mountain near Sullixan Station. W'e started 
armed with a brace of good re\'oh'ers and a fine shooting re- 
vol\-ino- carbine. It was in the afternoon, and we were to be 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



back bv night if nothing; prexented us. We started on our 
way and that night we arri\ed at a Union spy's place. We 
intended to go back just as soon as we found out that the 
rebel armv was gone, but the old man told us where there 
Avas a blue overcoat which he claimed was about two mile^ 
from where he was staying. So my friend Rogen and I 
thought we would go and see the man where the coat was. 
He was a Presbyterian minister. There was also a breech 
loading rifle here. AA'e intended to get it if we could, l"he 
old pilot went as far as a small piece of woods and Rogen and 
I started in the direction of a large house that was about 
three-quarters of a mile away. Wdien we got within about 
forty rods of the house, what was our sur])rise to see seven 
armed rebels come out of the east side and form a line, and 
on the back of the spokesman was the 1)1 ue coat I have 
spoken of. This leader called to us to surrender. 1 did the 
talking, cind told him that we would ne\er do so, but if thev 
did not throw down their arms we would advance and shoot 
as manv as we could. We both acted upon my suggestion, 
for we started, with drawn weapons. Just as soon as these 
se\en re1)els saw our bra\-ado they started and ran aroiu' 1 
the house and opened an outside cellarway and down into 
this they went. When we came up to the front we were very 
careful not to go around to that cellarway, but instead came 
up in front at the i)iazza. 1 had told these rebels that our 
Color.el Kirk, of the Se\enth Tennessee, was awaiting our 
success, and we demanded the gun. The old man produced, 
and as soon as we got it we started Ixick and struck the i)icce 
of woods where the colonel was. We started \or the moun- 
tain as fast as we could. We had not gone (piite a mile 1)e- 
fore they found out that we had tricked them. They made all 
possible speed to o\erhaul u^. We had about three-fourths of 
a mile start of them, and about a mile fm-ther to make, so we 



80 A TRUE WAK STORY. 



improved the time right royally, and if two young fellows 
ever got there we did. None too soon did we get to the 
mountain either, as they were but a short distance awa)-, 
and after we had got within a few hundred feet from the 
foot of the mountain w'e could well bid defiance to them all, 
for the mountain was steep and hard of ascent for a man let 
alone a horse. Soon we went back to where we left the 
scouts, or I^ieutenant Housley and his men. 

The next day we all started across the mountain again, 
and we all thought we were on our way to Knoxville, but it 
seemed that these Union men wanted some satisfaction, for 
as soon as we got over into Sullivan county where all of the 
rebels li\ ed, and who had been over so many times to capture 
them, they were bent on taking all of the home guards thatj 
they could and make them take the oath of allegiance to our 
government. 

It seemed that the home of the old colonel of the home 
guards, or guerillas, was the first place that I came to. It 
was about eight o'clock at night. Here we found a double 
log block house and in the west end of this house sat the old 
colonel on the floor, plaving with a young grandchild. There 
were five or six of our men at the door and several at the 
windows, and before we gave the old man any warning the 
men broke the door in and took the old man by surprise, 
but just as soon as the colonel got to his feet he had a gun 
in hand, that hung on a couple of pegs, and there were sev- 
eral other guns hanging around the house and standing in 
the corners. The old man struggled to avoid being taken, 
but at last submitted. The pleading on the part of his wife 
and daughter was pitiful and heart-rending, but in spite of 
their tears and pleadings we started in the direction of the 
mountain. We securely tied the old man's hands behind him 
with a rope, and then tied another some ten feet long to that, 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 81 



and they had the Andersonvihe prisoner, as they chose to 
call me, lead the old man. He swore a good deal and was 
very surly about being- led, but he had to i^o just the same. 
When we came to a i>iece of woods the scouts came to a halt 
and run the old man under a large low-limbed tree. The rope 
that was tied to his hands was untied and a noose ]:)laced 
around his neck. The rope was then thrown over a large 
limb and the rebel was commanded to say his prayers before 
thev strung him up. Then it was that the old man knew 
his time was short. Well, to tell the truth, this made me feel 
sad and almost sick to see an enemy hung after taking him 
prisoner, although it was often done by the rebels to our 
men. As soon as the old man began to plead very hard they 
gave him his choice of either taking the oath of allegiance 
or dangle at the end of the rope, so he took the oath of 
allegiance. Then we all went to others of the home guard? 
and got hold of a large number of them and made them all 
take the oath of allegiance to our government. 

After this we went to a large plantation and here we 
found the folks had left with the rebel armv, lea\'ing the 
plantation in charge of an old darkey and his wench. These 
tw^o old colored people the boys compelled to bake biscuit 
and hoecake for nearly three hours. We found a large bee 
hi^•e full of honev in the loft of the sm(~)ke house, and nearly 
one hundred weight of butter, and here around the old 
planter's table we sat and ate until we all felt very much sat 
isfied. Then we all retired for the night. Iving dowMi in 
W'hatever beds we could find to occupA'. Tn one of these beds 
T found over forty yards of sheep's gray cloth, which was 
worth at this time o\-er five dollars a vard in gold. This T 
took back across the mountain and ga\e it to Tj'eutcnani 
Houslev's wife, and out of this cloth Mrs. TTc^uslcv made me 



82 A TRUE WAR STORY. 



a nice pair of gray pants, the first pair 1 had l)eeii able to wear 
for a long time. 

Now the time had come for us to go in the direction of 
Knoxville. There had been some of Colonel Kirk's scout? 
about fifty in number, who had come to help our boys in 
reaching our lines, so we started. Most all of our men were 
mounted on good, fleet horses. Lieutenant Housley had fi 
nice little black mare that he let me have to ride. All the 
men in this company would number about eighty-five men. 
There were some seventy moimted men and in the neigh 
borhood of fifteen footmen. Some of these footmen were 
young boys, going to Knoxville to keep out of the rebel 
army. There was one or two rebel deserters along with us. 
We had been traveling a part of one night and one day along 
the line of railroad, when we came to a school house, or 
church, I don't just remember which, and camped for the 
nig-ht. Along- the way we had captured a rebel spy, who pre- 
tended to be a good Union man, and our boys let him go. 
He had not been gone more than two or three hours before 
there came a report from the guard lines that we were sur 
rounded by at least four or five hundred rebels. This was 
about eleven o'clock at night, so the scouts all fell in and 
made a dash in the direction of the mountains. Our men 
were successful in breaking through the rebel lines, which 
let all of us footmen into the mountains. There were six- 
teen of us besides the pilot, who was left with us. We got 
high up into the mountains between two large blufi's and 
here we stayed that night, or the balance of it. 

The next morning- found us very hungry, for we had not 
had much to eat for about two days. I want to say that our 
boys had a very sharp and hard time to get through these 
rebel lines, and some of the rel)els must have fell under the 
fire of the scouts. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 8.1 



About noon, or somewhere near that time, the i)ilot came 
to the conclusion that he would take one of our crew and 
go and try and get something for us to eat. So he started 
off in the direction of the valley. He had not been gone 
lone before I took one of the young men and started off on 
my own hook, to see what success I would have, and we 
started down in about the same direction. We came to 
where the rebels were in pursuit of us and we went near the 
building where our boys had previously had their troubles 
with the rebels. 

We went some two miles farther into the valley, where 
there was a large house standing on a very large plantation. 
At this house we got a large hoecake, or a baked kettle cake 
of corn bread and some bacon and started back. 

As we w'ere passing the place where we had had the 
trouble with the rebels, what was our surprise to see two 
mounted rebels coming in our direction. Now I knew it 
was all up with us unless we could get ready for them in 
some w-ay, so I told the young man to stoop down and get 
hold of anything that looked like a weapon and we would 
make a bold dash at them, ddiere was a large thorn bush 
hedge between the rebels and us. We made a very sudden 
movement toward this hedge, holding short sticks in our 
hands, and called to them to surrender, when they turned 
their steeds and started oft" in the direction they had come. 
Wc made all the speed that we could, and soon found our 
way back to our concealment. 

We all had a good lunch of corn bread and bacon and 
were ready to start again that night. We had to keep along 
the range of mountains, for we did not dare to follow the line 
of railroad for a while, for fear of the enemy. At this time 
we were about one hundred and twenty miles from Knox- 
ville, Tennessee. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



After starting again on our journey tliere was a woman 
pilot sent by Lieutenant Housley to help us along these 
mountain ranges, and, oh, such rugged, rocky cliffs that we 
had to climb, and such tired and aching limbs that we had 
during such nights of toiling up those mountains ! It is 
something that I can never forget. 

Well, as the distance grew less between the boys in blue 
and myself, my heart began to gladden and every night now 
began to tell on the distance. Oh, what thoughts I had of 
the folkj at home, and how I longed to see the playgrounds 
of my boyhood days ! 

After the third night our guide left us to traverse the 
rest of our journey without her and we at this time were fol 
lowing the railroad line to our final destination at Knoxville. 

We were about thirty-five miles away the last night of 
our travel, and we had got very hungry. I had slipped 
ahead of the boys to see if I could not get some hoecake 
before the rest of them came up. I had advanced ahead 
about three miles, and had come to a large block house, 
about half a mile south of the railroad. I went up to the 
door and looked in an old stile window. In the east end of 
the house was a fireplace, and close to this was a half dozen 
pairs of boots, while in the corner sat as many guns. 
I stood there a short time, when L knocked on the door. 
Presently there was a gruff voice which demanded to know 
who was there. I told him I wanted some hoecake. He 
again demanded a knowledge of me as to who was there. I 
told him that I was a friend. Soon he told the men who 
were on the floor to get up in haste, and when I saw that 
they were all getting up, I ran about seventy rods in the 
direction of the railroad. Here I waited until the boys came 
up and I told them what had happened. The old pilot con- 
cluded to try and make them all surrender, but in this we 



A TRUE WAR STORV. 85 

were mistaken, for we could not make them do so. They 
seemed to be desperate in regard to giving- up their arms, so 
w-e had to abandon the idea of taking them. We all started 
on again to finish up our journey. 

There was nothing of any importance which occurred 
the balance of the way. The next day we arrived at the 
Knoxville river. Here we found the railroad bridge was 
gone, and there were ferry boats to take the people over the 
river. When 1 saw the stars and stripes once more I shed 
tears of joy to think 1 had arrived into our lines, and I had 
great reasons to thank God for His deliverence from worse 
than death in those prison hells. 

Here I was taken to the commander's lieadquarters, and 
1 told him something of the privations 1 had g-one tln'ough. 
and aftei I had been given some dinner I was taken to the 
sanitary commission department. Here I found an old man 
by the name of David Scott. He was assistant surgeon of 
the Hastings hospital of Knoxville. This old man took mc 
to the sanitary commission where 1 was given a fine suit of 
navy blue clothes and a hat with an eagle on one side. Oh, 
how grand this made me feel to get a good warm suit of 
clothes on once more and to be free. 

The next day I was gi\en a ])ass to go to Washington, 
and how glad I was to take the train in the direction of home. 
I started and every eastern bound train that I could get on 
to without asking any questions I would get on. until 1 finally- 
found myself in New York City. 

Then the next place I found myself was in Pittsburg 
PennsvKania. within ninelv miles of home. Here I was 
accosted by a provost marshal, who asked me where I was 
from. I told him. Well he concluded that I had been taking 
a very good pleasure tri]> at the goxernment's expense, 
lie put me aboard the train and started mc for llarrisburg. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



and when I arrived there I met my old colonel, Chauncey 
Rodg-ers, whom I found at the Soldiers' Rest. He induced 
me to go to the state capitol at Harrisburg. Here he intro- 
duced me to Maribee Lowerv, a state senator of Pennsyb 
vania. Here I was seated above all of the leading senators 
and related the story of my escape, while a shorthand writer 
wrote it down as fast as I could tell it. 

After I had sat and told the story of my escape for nearly 
three hours a doctor came to me and felt of my pulse and 
told Mr. Lowery that if he intended to do anything for me he 
must do it soon, for he told him I was coming down 
with some fever. Now Mr. Lowery gave me a letter of in- 
troduction to the adjutant general of the war department, 
and the next day after I got to Washington I received a 
thirty-five days' furlough to go home. 

Mr. Lowery told me when I came back by the way of 
Baltimore and completed the tale of my escape that he would 
give me five hundred dollars in gold. Now when I started 
from Washington and got on the train I found an old man 
who had been at the Howard hospital at Washington, and 
who had buried a son and had just started for home. I told 
him where I lived when at home, and found that he lived 
about thirty miles from Waterford, Erie county, Pennsyl- 
vania. This old man took care of me until I reached home. 

When I got to Harrisburg 1 was so sick that I did not 
know what was going on around me. and when I arrived at 
the station at Waterford it was along about the last days of 
January. The snow was about two feet deep and drifted for 
a distance of some two miles from the station to a depth of 
ten feet. I got into a box car and remained in my old 
friend's care some two hours, while an old lady went two 
miles over some terriblv deep drifts to notify the stage driver 
of the condition I was in. 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 87 

During' this time the good old man had tried to get me 
into some Irish shanties near the station, Init without any 
success. I still remained in this cold car until my feet were 
badly frozen, and when the stage did come there came wdth 
it a man bv the name of Clifford Stafford, a distant relative, 
if anA% who had been discharged on account of wounds re- 
ceived in the Battle of Gainsey's Mill or Hall's Hill. Now, 
when I got home I never knew my own folks for five long- 
weeks, and when I did bring myself through I did not have 
a spear of hair on my head, nor did I have hardly any soles 
on my feet, so badly were they frozen while escaping and 
being exposed to so much snow and frost. 

This tale may not be so interesting to many on account 
of its being so long since the close of the war. but ne\'erthe- 
less it is a true story. 

Oh, how sad is the memory of the past ! If my faith 
was all I had in this world I should consider myself most 
miserable, but I thank God that while T still continue to 
suffer, my faith is in Him. 

When I got well I learned that my folks had made ready 
to have funeral services for me, as Comrade Ledierer had 
sent worrl to them that T was killed way back there at the 
negro shantv, at which place we were separated from each 
other. 

Now the time had come for me to return to Washington 
General Lee's armv had surrendered, and my time of ser\-icc 
had nearly expired and my furlough also. 

At last the day came when I bid my kind old mother 
and friends good bve and once more started to join the army. 

Mv desire now was to continue the tale of my escape 
from prison t(^ the Senator from Pennsvhania, and get tlie 
gold he had ]iromised to gi\e me, but when T got to Harris- 
bunr, I found that he had been taken ill and had been sent 



A TRUE WAR STORY. 



to an insane asylum, and while there had died, at least that 
was tlie report at that time. 

Soon after I got to Washington we were all mustered out 
of service and sent home. 

While I was on my way to Washington, and while in 
Baltimore waiting for a train to go to Washington, there was 
a guard who attempted to arrest me. I had been home 
three months, under a doctor's care, and of course my fur- 
lough of thirty-five days had expired, but I had a sw'orn cer- 
tificate from the doctor and a pass from the provost marshal 
of the place where I lived, but this did not suit the guard, 
wdio was bent on taking me for desertion. 

After twenty-five years had expired I got my ransom 
money from Uncle Sam on account of that guard at Balti- 
more keeping my furlough. 

Now this ends the tale of my escape from rebel prisons, 
and since all of this prison sutTering I have lived in Oceana 
count V, Michigan, and have reared up a family of five chil- 
dren, one bov dying at the asre of thirteen years. I have had 
both shoulders broken, mv right shoulder blade, right arm 
and left hip misplaced and broken, and also my left leg below 
the knee, and am now left almost a total cripple. 

This ends the short tale of suffering, but suffering not 
ended until this life is closed. 



IN DEFENSE OH THE FLAG. 




A TRUE WAR STORY 



(ILLUSTRATED.) 



A Pen Picture of Scenes and Incidents during the 

Great Rebellion.— Thrilling Experiences During 

Escape from Southern Prisons, Etc. 



Bu DAVID W. STAFFORD. 



